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THE  LIBRARY 

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OF  CALIFORNIA 

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ibrary, 


of  all 
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on.  If 
tary,  he 
y,  three 
warrant 
ate,  for 
SuTITinember 


or  officer  has  returned  all  books  taken  out  of  the  Library  by  him,  and  has 
settled  all  accounts  for  injuring  such  books  or  othenvi.-c. 

SEC.  15.  Hooks  may  be  taken  from  the  Library  by  the  members  of  the 
-hitnre  and  its  officers  during  the  session  of  the  same,  and  at  any  time 
by  the  (Jovernor  anil  the  officers  of  the  Executive  Department  of  this  State 
who  are  required  to  keep  their  offices  at  the  seat  of  government,  the 
Justices  of  the;  Supreme  Court,  the  Attorney- General  and  the  Trustees  of 
the  Library. 


A  S  PA  S  I  A 


BY 


C.    HOLLAND. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1869. 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT   &    CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


ps 


II^TEODUOTIOK 


A  PREFACE  to  my  autobiography  seems  superfluous.  It 
is  not  for  glory  that  I  give  my  readers  a  history  of  my 
life's  experiences,  and  not  that  I  am  to  be  held  up  as  an 
ensample  in  all  that  is  good ;  but  it  is  that  I  may,  if  pos 
sible,  be  instrumental  in  arousing  the  latent  energies  in 
the  minds  of  some  of  my  readers,  that  they  may  gain 
courage  to  meet  and  successfully  overcome  the  trials  that 
shall  come  upon  them,  and  learn  to  count  them  as  bless 
ings  in  disguise,  and  thus  be  strengthened  in  daily  duties, 
be  prepared  to  cope  with  grim  adversity,  when  it  comes, 
for  come  it  may.  To  obtain  the  sweets  of  real  happiness 
from  prosperity,  learn  to  appreciate  the  society  of  the 
virtuous  and  refined ;  to  discriminate  between  truth  and 
error ;  to  judge  correctly  of  character,  and  thus  be  better 
fitted  to  mingle  in  society,  and  also  understand  the  true 
philosophy  of  living,  that  will  bring  the  highest  degree 
of  permanent  happiness.  If  I  shall  be  instrumental  in 
thus  leading  even  one  into  paths  of  virtue  and  happiness, 
then  am  I  amply  rewarded  for  my  work. 

THE  AUTHOR. 
CHICAGO,  May,  1869. 

(in) 


932706 


ASPASIA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IT  was  on  a  beautiful  afternoon  in  June,  toward  the 
close  of  the  day,  as  I  was  sauntering  home  from  school. 
The  golden  rays  of  a  summer's  sun  were  glancing 
through  the  forests,  and  the  luxuriant  foliage  by  the 
wayside  was  ever  and  anon  casting  its  heavy  shades 
across  my  path.  The  thrush,  hidden  in  the  thick  under 
brush,  was  warbling  its  notes  of  praise ;  the  beautiful 
red-crested  robins,  perched  upon  the  high  branches  of  the 
stately  maples  and  elms  that  overhung  the  road,  were 
exultingly  singing  their  evening  songs.  The  sprightly 
little  red  squirrel,  as  innocent,  apparently,  as  though  the 
whole  earth  were  an  Eden,  would  occasionally  jump 
across  my  path,  the  lowing  of  the  herd  or  the  soft  bleat 
ing  of  the  flock  could  be  heard  across  the  meadows,  and 
all  nature  around  me  seemed  to  be  full  of  life,  beauty,  and 
love. 

Who  has  not  been  a  child  ? — although  it  is  said  there 
are  no  children  nowadays,  there  were  children  when  I 
was  young; — and  who  has  not,  in  the  tender  years  of 
childhood,  when  the  emotions  of  the  soul  were  readily 
awakened,  when  love  was  ardent,  when  everything  beau 
tiful  and  lovely  from  without  was  readily  photographed 

1*  (5) 


6  ASP  ASIA. 

upon  the  soul,  and  shown  forth  with  peculiar  brilliancy 
in  the  animated  life, — who,  of  all  such,  has  not  experi 
enced  the  holy  and  heavenly  influences  coming  through 
nature  from  nature's  God  ?  And  who  does  not  love  to  be 
carried  back  in  their  recollections  to  the  scenes  of  their 
childhood,  when,  in  the  early  morning,  while  the  dew 
was  yet  heavy  on  the  grass  about  the  door,  a  happy 
family  were  called  to  the  breakfast-table,  and,  after  having 
partaken  of  the  plain  but  substantial  fare,  the  honored 
head  of  the  household  would  read  a  chapter  from  the 
old  family  Bible,  and,  all  reverently  bowing  around  the 
family  altar,  he  would  render  devout  thanksgiving  for 
the  tender  watch-care  of  a  kind,  heavenly  Father  "  during 
the  dark  and  defenseless  hours  of  the  past  night,"  and 
supplicate  God's  favors  to  rest  upon  them  during  the  day, 
— '-Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread."  Worship  being 
ended,  each  would  fly  to  the  duties  of  the  day ;  and,  at 
the  time  at  which  I  commence  my  history,  mine  was  to 
school.  Yes,  away  to  school ;  across  the  meadow,  by  the 
small,  beaten  path,  through  the  tall  herds'-grass  and  beau 
tiful  waving  red  clover,  across  the  rippling  brook,  "going 
on  forever,"  in  which  the  shy,  spotted  trout  were  now  and 
then  darting  out  from  the  deep-shaded  water  under  a  log, 
which  lay  close  under  the  bank,  overgrown  with  moss, 
over  the  hill  and  across  the  pasture,  where  the  sprightly 
little  lambs  were  taking  their  morning  gambols,  thus 
emerging  into  the  road  just  this  side  of  the  "  Big  Bridge," 
and  so  on  to  the  old  red  school-house  which  stood  under 
the  hill. 

My  father  was  a  farmer.    I  have  heard  him  say  he  had 

•/  •/ 

nothing  to  commence  life  with  but  a  good  common-school 
education,  a  well-trained  mind,  and  an  abiding  faith  in 
God ;  firmly  believing  that  "  the  hand  of  the  diligent 
maketh  rich."  This  was  the  legacy  bequeathed  to  him 


ASP AST A  7 

by  his  parents,  to  which  he  had  a  perfect  title,  the  same 
having  been  inherited  by  them;  and  who  would  wish 
for  a  better  ? 

I  have  heard  my  mother  say  she  was  also  trained  in 
the  school  of  adversity ;  and,  thus  united,  both  my  parents 
felt  themselves  continually  overshadowed  by  the  pres 
ence  of  God,  and  their  everyday  acts  were  squared  by 
the  rule  of  love.  Their  children  were  early  dedicated  to 
God,  and,  as  they  grew  up  to  manhood  and  womanhood, 
they  were  continually,  by  example  and  precept,  enjoined 
to  "  walk  in  wisdom's  ways."  My  father  was  known 
among  the  neighbors  as  an  upright,  honest  man  ;  and  how 
many  times  I  have  heard  him  say  to  "the  boys,"  "In  all 
your  dealings  be  strictly  honest." 

I  was  the  youngest  of  my  father's  family ;  there  were 
three  boys  and  two  girls  older  than  myself,  and  it  was  the 
very  month  and  the  very  day  that  I  was  twelve  years 
old,  that  I  was  returning  from  school,  as  before  mentioned ; 
and  being  only  disturbed  in  my  reflections  by  the  beauty 
and  loveliness  of  nature  around  me  (and  not  greatly  dis 
turbed,  either,  for  I  was  every  day  made  familiar  with 
these  lovely  scenes),  I  said  to  myself,  "  What  am  I,  and 
what  am  I  to  be  ?" 

The  first  I  could  easily  answer : — I  am  a  girl.  Yes,  a 
wild,  rollicking  girl.  The  second  depended  upon  my  re 
solve,  and  the  strength  of  such  resolutions;  and  I  then 
and  there  resolved  that  I  would  be  a  woman  in  the  broad 
est  sense  of  the  term. 

I  was  conscious  of  possessing  natural  endowments 
which,  if  cultivated  and  fully  developed,  would  fit  me  for 
usefulness  and  enable  me  to  fulfill  a  mission  of  good. 

My  brothers  and  sisters  had  all  enjoyed  the  advantages 
of  the  district  school,  and  John  and  J times,  I  he  t\vo  eldest, 
were  already  grown  to  manhood,  and  engaged  in  business, 


8  A  SPA  SI  A. 

John  on  a  farm,  and  James  as  clerk  in  a  store  in  a  neigh 
boring  village.  William,  my  youngest  brother,  was  in 
his  last  term  at  the  academy,  and,  upon  graduating,  he 
came  home  to  remain  on  the  farm  with  my  father.  Cath 
erine  (or  Kate,  good  soul,  as  we  familiarly  called  her), 
my  eldest  sister,  was  about  to  be  married  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Shaw,  a  young  minister,  just  licensed  to  preach,  and 
installed  over  the  church  in  our  town.  Elizabeth,  my 
second  sister,  was  in  her  second  year  at  the  Young 
Ladies'  Seminary,  in  a  town  about  twenty  miles  distant. 

Thus  I  was  the  only  girl — yes,  the  only  child — then  at 
home. 

There  was  but  one  house  within  a  half-mile  of  my 
father's  :  that  was  Deacon  Jones's. 

Just  over  the  hill,  and  about  half-way  to  Deacon 
Jones's,  there  was  a  strip  of  pine  woods,  and  a  beautiful 
brook  ran  through  it  and  across  the  road,  covered  by  a 
rickety  old  bridge.  Here  Isabella  Jones  (Bell,  we  called 
her)  and  myself  often  met,  and,  wading  into  the  soft,  rip 
pling  water,  among  the  smooth  stones  of  the  brook, 
amused  ourselves  for  hours  catching  the  sprightly  little 
minnows,  which  we  accomplished  by  first  scraping  out  a 
basin  in  the  sand  at  the  edge  of  the  water,  then  walling 
it  around  with  stones  from  the  brook,  and  "  chinking  it 
in  with  sods,"  leaving  a  sort  of  gate- way  or  passage  on 
the  water-side,  then  each,  with  an  alder  bush  in  hand, 
would  wade  in  and  drive  the  little  fish  into  the  basin  thus 
prepared,  and,  stopping  the  aperture,  we  would  play  with 
them  awhile,  then  let  them  out,  a  few  at  a  time,  and 
watch  them  swiftly  gliding  down  stream,  as  much  as  to 
say,  Catch  me  again  if  you  can. 

Bell  Jones  was  about  my  age,  and  she  had  a  brother 
George,  a  little  older  than  herself.  George  and  my 
brother  William  frequently  went  fishing  of  a  rainy  day 


ASP  ASIA.  9 

(when  it  was  so  wet  they  could  not  work  on  the  farm), 
and  Bell  and  I  used  to  keep  a  supply  of  minnows  in  our 
basin  for  the  boys  to  use  as  bait  for  fishing. 

During  the  summer  vacation  we  used  often,  of  a  warm 
afternoon,  to  meet  in  the  "  pine  woods"  by  the  brook,  and 
enjoy  ourselves  either  in  fishing,  or  hunting  rabbits,  for 
the  boys  had  taught  us  to  hunt  and  fish ;  of  course  we 
used  no  fowling-pieces.  There  were  many  rabbits  in  the 
woods,  and  Rover,  our  faithful  house-dog,  who  always 
attended  us  in  our  ramblings  about  the  farm,  was  an  ex 
pert  in  finding  and  catching  them. 

The  boys  also  used  to  set  their  snares  across  the  rabbit- 
paths,  and  thus  catch  many;  and  occasionally  a  partridge, 
which  had  foolishly  strayed  from  the  covey,  would  uncon 
sciously  "stick  her  head"  in  the  snare,  and  away  she 
would  go  dangling  in  the  air,  out  of  reach  of  any  sly  old 
fox  that  might  be  out  in  search  of  family  supplies  to  feed 
her  cunning  baby  foxes  in  the  den. 

One  very  warm  day  we  were  playing  in  the  cool  brook 
under  the  shade  of  the  dense  old  pines,  and  suddenly  we 
were  startled  at  the  cry  of  some  one ;  we  ran  hastily  to 
the  road,  whence  the  sound  came,  and  who  should  we 
find  but  Laura  Greenwood,  a  girl  about  my  age,  but  one 
we  did  not  meet  very  often,  for  the  reason  that  Mr. 
Greenwood  lived  nearly  a  mile  east  of  our  house,  across 
the  fields,  and  he  was  an  irreligious  man,  and  neither  him 
self  nor  his  family  attended  church.  Laura  had  been 
berrying,  and,  upon  the  principle  that  "  the  longest  way 
round  is  the  nearest  way  home,"  she  had  come  around 
the  road,  and  as  she  was  passing  along  leisurely  in  the 
shade  of  the  heavy  branches  of  the  stately  old  pines 
which  overhung  the  road,  all  at  once  a  huire  lilack  snake 
slid  out  into  the  path,  directly  in  front  of  her,  and,  rais 
ing  his  ugly  head  about  a  foot  from  the  ground,  disputed 


10  ASFASIA. 

her  passage.  The  poor  girl  was  almost  frightened  out  of 
her  senses.  Bell  caught  a  stick  and  I  a  stone,  and  we 
were  just  about  to  move  upon  the  enemy,  when  Farmer 
Osgood  came  suddenly  around  the  turn  of  the  road,  driv 
ing  a  yoke  of  oxen.  I  beckoned  him  to  stop  his  team, 
which  he  did,  then  pointed  to  the  snake,  and,  with  one 
stroke  of  his  heavy  ox-whip,  he  cut  it  completely  in  twain. 
We  thanked  him  for  the  deliverance,  and  all  three  of  us 
went  down  to  the  brook. 

Of  course  the  subject  of  conversation  was  snakes,  and 
each  vied  with  the  others  in  telling  snake  stories. 

At  last  said  I,  "  Girls,  I  can  beat  you  both  in  a  snake 
story, — and  it's  a  true  one,  too." 

"  Let's  have  it,  then,"  said  they. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  we  will  go  out  on  the  grass  yonder, 
under  the  shade  of  those  sweet-scented  locust-trees,  and 
I'll  tell  the  story,"  which  was  agreed  to;  and,  after  hav 
ing  each  picked  our  aprons  full  of  honeysuckles,  and  a 
handful  of  wintergreens  (or,  as  we  called  the  young 
plants,  "young  comeups"),  we  seated  ourselves  for  the 
story. 

"  Now,"  said  Laura,  "  tell  us  a  true  one." 

"  Yes,  I  will,"  said  I ;  "and  this  is  it. 

"A  great  while  ago  there  was  a  man  and  his  wife  lived 
in  a  beautiful  garden,  a  perfect  paradise  of  a  place,  and, 
according  to  what  I  have  heard  about  it,  it  was  something 
like  the  place  where  we  are,  only  it  was  a  thousand  times 
more  beautiful ;  but  there  were  three  little  rivers  running 
through  it,  just  like  Jones's  Brook  through  this  hollow; 
and  we  have  plenty  of  honeysuckles  here,  but  in  the  gar 
den  in  which  this  man  and  woman  lived  there  were  all 
sorts  of  beautiful  flowers,  the  perfumes  of  which  made  it 
perfectly  delightful  living  there,  and  everything  was  just 
as  lovejy  as  it  could  be.  The  owner  of  the  garden  gave 


AS  PAST  A.  11 

it  to  this  man,  and  told  him  that  he  need  not  work  at  all, 
but  only  be  happy " 

"And  his  wife,  too  ?"  inquired  Laura. 

"  Yes,  and  his  wife  also  ;  she  need  not  work  at  all,  but 
only  be  happy;  and  he  would  give  them  all  there  was 
there,  and  furnish  them  with  all  the  food  they  wanted,  if 
they  would  obey  him. 

"  Now  surely  that  was  very  reasonable,  was  it  not  ? 

"  Well,  there  were  a  great  many  fruit  trees  in  the  gar 
den  (for  it  was  a  large  place,  I  suppose ;  bigger  than  my 
father's  farm),  and  the  owner  of  the  place  told  the  man 
and  woman  that  they  might  pick  and  eat  just  as  much 
fruit  as  they  wished,  and  welcome.  But  right  in  the 
middle  of  the  garden  there  stood  a  tree  that  hung  full  of 
splendid-looking  fruit,  large  and  fair,  the  sides  of  which 
were  red  and  tempting,  but  deadly  poison  ;  and  the  owner 
of  the  place  told  the  man  and  his  wife  that  they  must  not 
touch  the  fruit  of  that  tree,  and  I  presume  it  was  because 
it  was  poisonous ;  for  you  know  that  some  of  the  pret 
tiest  wild  flowers  and  berries  we  find  are  poison  to  touch 
or  eat.  Well,  the  man  and  his  wife,  in  walking  around, 
had  to  go  right  past  this  tree  very  often ;  and  every  time 
they  saw  it  they  wanted  some  of  the  fruit. 

"  There  were  a  great  many  animals,  of  every  sort,  that 
the  owner  of  the  place  had  kept  tame ;  and  they  walked 
about  the  garden  as  much  as  they  pleased,  and  without 
hurting  each  other,  or  the  man  and  woman,  of  whom  they 
were  very  fond. 

"  There  were  lions,  tigers,  bears,  cattle,  horses,  sheep, 
dogs,  and  every  other  animal  that  can  be  thought  of. 
And  there  was  a  very  beautiful  serpent " 

"Oh,"  said  Laura,  "beautiful  serpent!  how  can  you 
say  so  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "it  was  beautiful  then  ;  it  didn't  crawl 


12  ASP  AS  I  A. 

along  on  the  ground,  as  it  does  now,  but  stood  up,  I  sup 
pose;  perhaps  it  had  feet,  so  that  it  could  walk  and  hold 
its  head  high  in  the  air  ;  and  you  know  very  well  that  if 
we  didn't  dislike  snakes  as  we  do,  we  should  have  called 
that  big  black  snake,  that  frightened  you  so  to-day,  hand 
some. 

"Well,  this  old  serpent  was  one  day  at  the  tree  that 
bore  such  beautiful  fruit,  when  the  man  and  his  wife  passed 
along,  and  said  the  serpent,  '  Why  don't  you  eat  some  of 
the  delicious  fruit  on  this  tree  ?'  " 

Then  the  girls  both  burst  out  laughing.  "  Why,"  said 
Bell,  "  we  thought  you  were  going  to  tell  us  a  true  story." 

"  So  I  am,"  said  I. 

"Then  why  say  the  serpent  talked  ?" 

"  Because  he  did,"  said  I;  "  arid  it  is  supposed  by  many 
people  that  nearly  all,  if  not  all,  the  animals  could  once 
speak,  and  not  only  converse  with  each  other,  but  with 
man ;  and  we  know  that  they  have  a  sort  of  language  by 
which  they  talk  with  each  other  now.  Dr.  Woodman 
and  Parson  Shaw  were  at  our  house  last  week,  and  I 
heard  them  talking  with  my  father  about  this  very  thing. 
And  Dr.  Woodman  said  that  several  of  the  animals  have 
the  organs  of  speech  fully  developed  now,  showing  that 
they  did  once  speak.  'Yes,'  said  Parson  Shaw,  'and  I 
believe  that  when  sin  is  all  gone  out  of  the  world,  the 
animals  will  talk  again.'  " 

"  Sin !"  said  Laura ;  "  what  does  he  mean  by  that  ?" 

"  He  means,"  said  I,  "  when  all  wicked  people  die,  or 
else  become  good,  so  that  nobody  lies,  or  cheats,  or 
swears,  or  steals,  or  does  anything  wrong. 

"  But  to  my  story.  The  man  and  woman  told  the  ser 
pent  that  the  owner  of  the  garden  charged  them  not  to 
eat  of  that  fruit,  and  that  if  they  did  they  should  surely 
die. 


ASPAS1A.  13 

"  The  serpent  then  asked  them  what  they  supposed  such 
beautiful  fruit  was  made  to  grow  for,  if  not  to  be  eaten, 
and  right  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  too,  where  they 
passed  every  day ;  '  and  besides,'  said  he, '  I  know  you  will 
not  surely  die  if  you  eat  of  the  fruit  of  this  tree.'  But 
the  man  went  on,  and  wouldn't  stop  to  talk  with  the  ser 
pent  ;  and  it  had  been  better  if  the  woman  had  gone  also ; 
but  she  did  not ;  she  liked  to  hear  the  serpent  talk  ;  he 
had  sparkling  eyes,  was  smooth-tongued,  and  flattered 
her ;  told  her  she  would  be  like  a  god,  know  everything, 
if  she  would  listen  to  him  and  eat  the  fruit.  And  she 
finally  yielded  to  the  temptation,  and  picked  some  splen 
did  specimens  of  the  fruit  from  the  tree,  and  ate  them, 
and  she  was  filled  with  ecstasies  of  delight,  and  ran  after 
her  husband,  and  gave  him  some,  and  he  ate  it,  and  they 
both  went  to  dancing  and  acting  shamefully. 

"  The  serpent  stood  looking  on  to  see  the  effect,  for  he 
knew  he  had  lied  to  them,  and  that  it  would  prove  the 
ruin  of  both  of  them.  Well,  it  was  toward  evening,  and 
they  were  acting  in  this  manner,  but  were  beginning  to 
feel  anxious  lest  the  owner  of  the  garden  would  find  it 
out ;  and  all  at  once  they  heard  the  man's  name  called, 
and  they  ran  and  hid  themselves  in  the  bushes;  but  the 
owner  of  the  garden  called  loudly  to  them,  to  know  why 
they  had  hidden  from  him ;  then  the  man  confessed  that 
he  had  eaten  of  that  forbidden  fruit,  but  said  he  should 
not  have  done  so  if  his  wife  had  not  eaten  and  given  him 
some,  and  then  his  wife  said  she  would  not  have  done  so 
had  it  not  l>een  for  the  serpent. 

"Then  the  owner  of  the  garden  cursed  1  he  serpent,  and 
said  he  should  crawl  on  the  ground,  and  eat  dust  always, 
and  that  everybody  should  hate  it,  and  should  bruise  its 
head,  and  kill  it.  And  that's  what  makes  us  hate 
snakes  so. 

2 


14  A  SPA  SI  A. 

"And  the  owner  drove  the  man  and  his  wife  right  out  of 
the  garden,  and  put  one  of  his  servants,  with  a  sword  in 
his  hand,  at  the  gate  to  keep  them  out,  poor,  forlorn,  de 
spised  creatures ;  and  the  animals  ran  after  them,  and 
scared  them  ;  before  this,  all  the  animals  loved  them,  and 
would  eat  grass  out  of  their  hands  ;  but  now  the  cattle 
stuck  forward  their  ears,  and  ran  bellowing  after  them. 
The  asses  brayed  after  them,  and  scared  them  nearly  to 
death.  The  dogs  barked  after  them,  and  would  have  bitten 
them,  had  they  not  lain  down  just  under  the  gate,  where 
the  servant  with  the  sword  in  his  hand  stood.  But  they 
were  kept  awake  all  night  by  the  howling  of  wolves  and 
roaring  of  lions,  and  thus  the  poor  wretches  very  soon 
came  to  realize  the  terrible  consequences  of  doing  wrong." 

"  Well,"  said  the  girls,  "  this  is  a  pretty  big  story." 

Bell  said  she  thought  she  had  heard  something  like  it, 
but  could  not  say  certain.  Laura  said  she  had  never 
heard  anything  at  all  like  it,  and  she  was  a  little  inclined 
to  disbelieve  it. 

"  Now,"  said  they,  "  tell  us  the  name  of  the  owner  of 
the  garden,  and  the  name  of  the  man  and  his  wife,  and 
where  it  was,  and  we  will  believe  it." 

Said  I,  "  It  is  almost  night  now,  and  we  will  meet 
here  next  Saturday  afternoon,  and  then  I'll  tell  you; 
but,  in  the  mean  time,  you  ask  your  parents  if  they  ever 
heard  the  story." 

Said  Laura,  "Mr.  Osgood,  who  lives  near  our  bouse, 
has  a  beautiful  daughter,  Mary,  about  as  old  as  we 
are ;  and,  if  you  girls  do  not  object,  I  would  like  to  bring 
her  with  me  on  Saturday." 

I  replied  that  we  should  be  delighted  to  see  her. 

So,  bidding  each  other  good-by,  we  ran  to  our  homes. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  day  was  clear  and  pleasant ;  the  new-mown  hay 
in  the  meadows  filled  the  air  with  its  fragrance. 

My  mother,  who  had  been  busying  herself  about  the 
household  duties,  with  what  little  assistance  I  was  able 
to  render,  had  finished  up  her  work  and  sat  down  to  her 
mending,  and  I  was  sitting  by  the  window,  reading,  when 
who  should  come  in  but  Jane  Fisher  (or  Aunt  Jane,  as 
she  was  familiarly  called)  ? 

Miss  Jane  was  a  maiden  lady  who  lived  in  the  village, 
and  she  thought  a  great  deal  of  my  mother,  and  fre 
quently  visited  at  our  house.  She  was  one  of  those  pre 
cise  women,  naturally  very  jealous  and  suspecting,  very 
fond  of  hearing  and  telling  some  new  thing ;  she  was, 
however,  a  good  woman,  and  my  mother  said  she  thought 
she  tried  to  overcome  those  defects  in  her  nature,  and,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  she  succeeded  to  a  great  extent ;  but 
she  possessed  the  happy  faculty  of  obtaining  a  full  store 
of  news  each  time  before  visiting  us. 

I  heard  my  mother  say  to  father  once,  after  Miss  Jane 
had  left,  "  that  if  she  could  visit  us  every  evening  we 
should  be  quite  as  well  off  for  news,  living  on  the  farm, 
as  if  we  were  residing  in  the  village,  and  possibly  better, 
for  Jane  told  her  many  things  she  was  sure  she  could 
not  have  learned  from  any  other  source." 

To  which  my  father  replied,  "  Well,  I  think  Jane  is  a 
good  woman,  and  means  well,  and  her  case  only  proves 
to  me  that  we  are  all  designed  by  Providence  to  fill  a  par- 

(15) 


16  A  SPA  SI  A. 

ticular  niche  in  life  ;  in  other  words,  it  requires  all  sorts 
of  people  to  make  a  world. 

"And  although  some  may  be  afraid  of  Jane,  because  of 
her  everlasting  gabbling,  yet,  after  all,  I  think  she  is  a 
very  valuable  member  of  society ;  for  if  she  sees  or  hears 
of  the  slightest  departure  from  duty  of  one  of  the  mem 
bers  of  the  church,  whether  male  or  female,  young  or  old, 
she  runs  right  to  the  minister  with  it ;  and  if  there  is  a 
young  gentleman  or  lady  about  to  be  married,  and  Jane 
hears  anything  serious  against  the  character  of  either,  she 
runs  right  straight  to  the  other  and  reports  it,  and  it  is 
getting  so  that  people  in  town  dare  not  do  wrong,  lest 
Jane  will  know  it ;  and,  although  it  is  in  many  in 
stances  very  annoying  to  have  such  a  person  about,  yet 
I  think,  on  the  whole,  society  is  the  better  for  their  pres 
ence." 

"  Well,"  said  niy  mother,  "  good-afternoon,  Jane.  How 
do  you  get  along  this  warm  day  ?" 

"  Oh,  dear,"  said  she,  "  I  am  about  melted ;  give  me  a 
fan.  I  have  come  afoot  all  the  way  from  town,  and  there's 
Alex.  Fish  and  Mary  Bacon  came  whirring  by  me  in  a  top 
buggy  ;  plenty  of  room  for  me  to  rrde,  but  they  didn't 
ask  me ;  and  I  have  heard  something  about  that  young 
Fish  that  I  don't  think  is  exactly  right,  and  they  say 
Mary  Bacon  is  trying — oh,  how  hot  'tis ! — they  say  Mary 
is  trying  with  all  her  might  to  catch  him,  and  I  intend  to 
see  her,  and  tell  her  what  I  have  heard,  and  put  her  on 
her  guard ;  it's  really  none  of  my  business,  but  then 
Mary  is  a  good  girl,  and  I  feel  as  though  it  was  my 
duty." 

My  mother  replied,  "Jane,  you  had  better  be  careful, 
or  you  will  get  Mrs.  Bacon  offended  with  you ;  for  my 
opinion  is  she  thinks  very  well  of  young  Fish." 

"  Well,"  said  Jane,  "  I  can't  help  it  if  she  does  ;  I  must 


AS  PAS  I  A.  If 

do  my  duty.  By  the  way,  what  do  you  think  of  Parson 
Shaw's  sermon  last  Sabbath  ?" 

"  In  what  respect?"  inquired  my  mother. 

"  Why,  the  doctrine  of  salvation  by  grace." 

My  mother  replied,  "  I  like  it ;  and  it  is,  indeed,  a  pre 
cious  doctrine  to  me  to  feel  that,  with  all  my  sins  rest 
ing  upon  me,  I  can  cast  the  burden  all  upon  Jesus,  who 
has  said,  '  My  grace  shall  be  sufficient  for  you.' " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  Jane  ;  "  but  then  it  strikes  me  we 
have  got  something  to  do.  I  believe  in  works  some. 
There  are  lots  of  Christians  who  are  delighted  to  hear 
the  minister  preach  against  works,  and  of  a  salvation 
purely  by  grace,  for  no  other  reason  in  the  world  but  that 
they  are  too  lazy  to  work,  and  haven't  enough  religion  to 
make  them." 

"  Xo  doubt,"  replied  my  mother,  "  there  are  too  many 
such  church-members  as  you  describe ;  but,  Jane,  you 
must  bear  this  in  mind,  those  who  are  truly  Christians, 
have  the  love  of  Christ  in  their  hearts,  have  been  born 
again  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  renewed  in  the  spirit  of 
their  mind  by  grace  divine, — all  such  will  work;  nopower 
on  earth  can  keep  them  from  working.  The  Bibie  says 
our  faith  is  only  manifested  by  our  works,  and  if  we  have 
no  works  it  is  a  sure  evidence  that  we  have  no  faith,  for 
'faith  without  works  is  dead.'  " 

"  Well,"  said  Jane,  "  I  think  you  are  about  right, 
after  all  ;  I  never  looked  at  it  in  just  that  light  before." 

During  all  this  conversation  I  had  been  as  mute  as  a 
statue ;  but  the  principles  of  theology  which  had  been 
under  discussion  were  of  great  importance  to  me,  and 
finding  that  a  sermon,  which  I  heard,  but  did  not  remem 
ber  a  single  sentence  of,  was  of  so  much  interest  to  ladies 
of  mature  years,  I  resolved  I  hat  henceforth  I  would  pay 
particular  attention  to  all  the  preacher  should  say,  and 

2* 


18  ASP  A  SI  A. 

try  to  remember  it,  which  I  have  ever  since  done,  and 
greatly  to  my  benefit,  and  by  the  time  I  was  sixteen  years 
of  age  I  could  remember  and  repeat  one-half  of  any  ser 
mon  I  heard  ;  and  if  my  young  readers  would  all  accustom 
themselves  to  this  practice,  they  would  find  it  very  inter 
esting  and  vastly  profitable. 

After  the  conversation  just  mentioned,  Jane  turned  her 
chair  around  toward  me,  and  inquired  after  my  health, 
whether  I  attended  school  or  not,  how  far  advanced  I  was 
in  my  studies,  etc.,  and,  said  she,  with  a  deep-drawn  sigh, 
"Oh,  dear!  when  I  see  a  bright  little  girl  like  you  just 
emerging  out  of  girlhood,  I  pity  her,  for  she  don't  realize 
the  real  happiness  of  youth,  nor  the  troubles  of  mature 
life,  and  I  recall  the  lines  of  the  old  poet : 

"Seek  not  the  sweets  of  life,  in  life's  first  bloom; 
They  ill  prepare  us  for  the  pain  to  come." 

To  which  beautiful  sentiment  I  replied,  I  enjoyed  the 
sweets  of  life  every  day ;  that  only  yesterday  "us  girls" 
were  down  in  the  pine  woods  by  Jones's  Brook,  and  we 
had  a  splendid  time,  but  then  I  didn't  suppose  these  pleas 
ures  could  prepare  us  for  the  adversities  of  life,  which  I 
felt  were  sure  to  come  upon  all,  as  I  had  frequently  heard 
my  father  say. 

Just  at  this  time  sister  Kate  came  down-stairs  ;  she  and 
Miss  Jane  met  each  other  cordially,  and  about  the  first 
question  Jane  asked  was  to  know  of  Kate  when  she  was 
to  be  married  ;  she  said  she  couldn't  help  thinking  about 
it  in  church  every  Sunday  ;  it  was  a  good  match,  and  she 
was  glad  of  it ;  she  felt  as  though  it  was  providential. 

Kate  replied,  she  had  not  certainly  fixed  upon  the 
day  of  the  wedding,  but  assured  Jane  that  if  any  one  out 
of  the  family  was  invited  she  should  be. 

At  this,  Jane  sprang  out  of  her  chair,  and,  said  she, 


AS  PA  SI  A.  19 

"  Kate,  you're  the  best  girl  that  ever  was  born  in  this 
town,"  and  tears  of  gratitude  filled  her  eyes. 

"  Well,"  said  Kate,  "  you  ought  not  to  think  of  our 
being  married,  during  the  services  on  the  Sabbath." 

"I  suppose  I  ought  not,"  said  Jane,  "but  I  can't 
help  it;  for  your  mother  knows  I  always  thought  every 
thing  of  you,  ever  since  you  were  a  little  girl ;  and  as  for 
Parson  Shaw,  I  do  think  if  ever  there  was  a  saint  on 
earth  he  is  one.  I  was  over  to  Mr.  Brown's  the  other 
night  when  his  little  boy  died,  and  it  seemed  as  though  it 
would  kill  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brown ;  they  fairly  worshiped 
that  little  boy.  Parson  Shaw  was  there,  and  it  certainly 
seemed  as  though  I  never  heard  such  a  prayer  as  he 
made,  and  such  consolation  as  he  poured  into  those 
wounded  hearts  I  never  heard  before.  I  just  ran  over  to 
Mr.  Brown's  this  morning  to  see  if  they  had  anything  to 
say  about  it,  for  I  knew  you  would  like  to  hear  it,  and  I 
knew  they  would  say  something  about  it;  and  I  hadn't 
more  than  entered  the  house  when  Mrs.  Brown  burst  out 
crying,  and,  said  she,  '  Jane,  did  you  ever  hear  a  minister 
talk  and  pray  as  Mr.  Shaw  did  when  Johnny  died  ?  hus 
band  and  I  both  said  it  seemed  as  though  he  was  an 
angel.' " 

Just  at  this  time  Peggy,  the  kitchen  girl,  announced 
tea;  my  father  coming  in  from  the  field,  we  all  gathered 
around  the  tea-table,  and  Jane  kept  father  so  busy  talking 
that  we  did  not  finish  tea  till  dark ;  then  father  called  one 
of  the  hired  men,  and  he  hitched  up  one  of  the  horses, 
and  took  Jane  home.  And,  as  she  was  getting  in  the 
wagon,  said  mother,  "  Come  again,  Jane ;  we  love  to  have 
you  come  and  see  us." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  because  you  have  so  much  news  to 
tell." 

"  Hush  I"  said  my  mother.     "  You  should  not  tell  the 


20  ASP  AS  I  A. 

truth  at  all  times,  though  you  should  always  speak  the 
truth." 

The  morrow  was  the  Sabbath ;  we  all  sat  about  the 
table,  and  read  from  our  Bibles  the  chapter  containing 
the  Sabbath-school  lesson,  and,  having  read  the  same,  my 
father  expounded  it  to  us  all,  verse  by  verse,  after  which 
worship  was  held,  and  we  all  retired  to  rest. 

Sabbath  dawned  upon  us  a  lovely  day,  and  in  due  time 
we  all  rode  to  church.  The  house  was  full,  and  the  con 
gregation  was  deeply  affected.  Father  said  he  did  not 
remember  of  having  heard  a  more  impressive  discourse 
than  Mr.  Shaw  preached  that  day.  His  text  was,  "  Ex 
cept  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish  ;"  and  it  is  said 
that  Farmer  Osgood,  Mrs.  Greenwood,  and  several  others, 
who  had  never  been  to  church  in  this  town,  were  there, 
and  they  were  all  deeply  affected,  and  some  even  shed 
tears.  The  pastor  referred  to  Johnny  Brown's  sudden 
death,  and  warned  all  the  children  to  repent  of  their  sins, 
and  love  Jesus,  so  that  if  any  of  them  were  called  to  die 
suddenly,  as  Johnny  Brown  had,  they  might  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life.  He  then  appealed  to  parents 
to  attend  more  earnestly  to  the  interests  of  the  souls  of 
their  children.  I  remember  with  what  pathos  he  urged 
upon  parents  their  duties  in  this  respect,  and  how  he 
wept  when  he  said,  with  his  eyes  turned  toward  heaven, 
"  My  dear  friends,  one  and  all,  I  expect,  sooner  or  later, 
to  stand  before  yonder  white  throne,  and  render  an  account 
of  my  stewardship  here ;  and,  oh,  how  blessed  it  will  be, 
and  how  my  Saviour  will  rejoice,  and  how  angels  will 
sing,  if  I  can  be  permitted  to  hand  in  every  name  of  those 
who  now  listen  to  my  voice  as  among  those  who  '  have 
washed  their  robes  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb'!" 

I  shall  never  lose  the  impressions  received  that  day ; 
and,  although  I  had  previously  resolved  to  lead  a  Chris- 


AS  PA  SI  A.  21 

tian's  life,  my  resolutions  were  greatly  strengthened  that 
day. 

My  father  was  superintendent  of  the  Sabbath-school, 
and,  after  the  lesson  was  over,  he  called  the  school  to 
order,  and  spoke  of  little  Johnny  Brown's  death  (for 
he  was  a  member  of  the  Sabbath-school,  and  greatly 
beloved  by  all).  My  father  said  that  when  Johnny  was 
dying  he  sent  word  to  all  the  little  boys  and  girls  in  the 
Sunday-school  to  love  their  Saviour,  and  be  good,  and 
meet  him  in  heaven. 

He  said  Johnny  was  so  happy  that  he  was  going  home 
to  his  Saviour  that  he  sang  the  following,  and  begged 
of  those  who  stood  about  his  bed  to  continue  to  sing  to 

him  as  long  as  he  lived  : 

• 
"And  may  I  still  get  there, 

Still  reach  the  heavenly  shore  ; 
The  land  forever  bright  and  fair, 
Where  sorrow  reigns  no  more. 

"I  part  with  earth  and  sin, 

And  shout,  The  danger's  past, 
My  Saviour  takes  me  fully  in, 
And  I  am  his  at  last." 

There  was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  when  father  finished 
reading  the  hymn,  and  some  of  the  children  sobbed  aloud; 
it  was  deeply  solemn,  and  many  resolved  from  that  time 
to  lead  better  lives. 

As  usual,  dinner  was  ready  for  us  at  home  when  we 
returned  from  church,  and  we  had  but  just  been  seated  at 
the  table  when  Laura  Greenwood  came  running  up  the 
yard,  past  the  window  before  which  the  table  stood.  On 
seeing  her  I  ran  to  meet  her,  and,  perceiving  by  her  down 
cast  look  that  something  sad  had  happened,  inquired  has 
tily  what  was  the  matter.  She  was  so  out  of  breath  with 


22  AS  PAS  I  A. 

running  that  she  could  hardly  speak,  but,  said  she,  "When 
we  were  returning  from  church  to-day,  my  father's  horse 
got  frightened,  and  ran  away,  and  threw  us  all  out  of  the 
wagon,  and  somehow  I  escaped ;  but  I  expect  it  broke 
both  my  parents'  limbs,  for  they  lie  there  beside  the  road, 
and  they  cannot  get  up.  And,  oh,  I  am  so  sorry !  because 
they  have  not  been  to  church  for  many  years,  and  had  it 
not  been  for  me  they  would  not  have  gone  to-day." 

My  father  heard  Laura's  story,  and  arose  quickly  from 
the  table,  and  said  he  to  the  hired  man,  "  Jump  on  to  the 
black  horse,  and  run  for  Dr.  Woodman,  and  tell  him  to 
go  to  Mr.  Greenwood's  as  quick  as  possible,  and  I  will 
be  there."  Then,  catching  up  his  hat,  he  ran  across  the 
fields  to  Mr.  Greenwood's  with  all  possible  speed,  and 
•mother  and  Kate  followed  as  fast  as  they  could,  taking 
Laura  with  them. 

My  father  found  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Greenwood  lying  by  the 
side  of  the  road,  near  their  house,  where  they  had  been 
thrown.  They  were  groaning  with  pain ;  on  examination, 
he  became  satisfied  their  limbs  were  fractured,  and  he  could 
not,  without  assistance,  get  them  into  the  house.  Soon, 
however,  mother  and  Kate  reached  there,  and  soon  after  the 
doctor  and  hired  man,  and  they  took  them  into  the  house, 
and  laid  them  on  separate  beds,  and  the  doctor,  assisted  by 
my  father  (who,  by  the  way,  was  more  than  half  a  doctor 
or  surgeon  himself),  soon  reduced  the  fracture  and  bound 
up  their  bruises.  Father  then  went  for  the  horse,  caught 
him,  and  put  him  in  the  field.  He  then  went  to  work  and 
did  the  chores  about  the  house  and  barn,  and  mother  and 
Kate  took  care  of  the  invalids  that  night. 

As  father  had  as  much  as  he  could  possibly  do  on  his 
farm  at  home,  and  consequently  could  not  spend  any  por 
tion  of  his  time  at  Mr.  Greenwood's,  he  went  in  the  morn 
ing  and  hired  a  man  and  his  wife,  most  excellent  people,  to 


ASP  ASIA.  23 

go  there  and  take  care  of  them,  and  do  the  work  about 
the  house. 

In  the  afternoon  of  that  very  day  Parson  Shaw  was 
riding  past.  Father  stopped  him,  and  related  the  sad  oc 
currence.  He  said  that  although  Mr.  Greenwood  had 
scoffed  at  religion,  still,  if  my  father  thought  advisable,  he 
would  call  on  them ;  and  father  encouraged  him  by  all 
means  to  do  so. 

On  the  next  day  Mr.  Shaw  called  on  them,  and  found 
them  suffering  great  pain ;  he  gave  them  a  few  words  of 
cheer  and  consolation,  and  was  about  to  leave  them,  when 
Mr.  Greenwood  earnestly  requested  him  to  remain,  as  he 
had  something  to  say  to  him.  Said  he,  "  I  have  not  been  in 
side  of  a  church  before  for  twenty  years,  and  now,  by  going 
last  Sunday,  this  terrible  accident  has  happened  to  both 
wife  and  me.  My  first  thought,  when  hurt,  was  to  curse 
the  church,  minister  and  all,  but  something  seemed  to 
operate  on  my  mind  which  prevented  it ;  wife  said,  '  There  ! 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  your  persistency  in  going  to  church 
we  should  not  have  been  injured ;'  but,  somehow  (and  it 
seemed  strange),  I  couldn't  answer  as  she  expected  I 
would,  and  now  your  coming  here  to  see  us  to-day  is  an 
other  choker  for  me." 

Mr.  Shaw  then  asked  him  how  he  happened  to  go  to 
church  last  Sabbath.  He  replied,  "  I  shouldn't  if  it  had 
not  been  for  Laura.  A  few  days  since  she  met  Aspasia 
Horton  and  Bell  Jones,  and  spent  an  afternoon  with  them, 
and  the  girls  were  telling  stories  ;  Aspasia  told  them  the 
story  of  the  fall  of  man  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  and, 
either  because  it  was  told  in  Aspasia's  peculiar  style,  or 
something  else,  it  made  such  an  impression  upon  Laura 
that  she  told  it  all  anew  to  wife  and  me,  and  insisted  upon 
knowing  who  the  man  uiid  woman  were,  and  where  it 
was,  and  said  we  must  know  all  about  it,  for  Aspasia  said 


24  ASP  AS!  A. 

our  parents  would  know,  and  we  must  ask  them.  Says 
wife,  '  James,  go  and  get  the  old  Bible,  and  read  it  all  to 
Laura.'  I  asked  her  where  it  was  ;  I  did  not  know  that  we 
had  one  in  the  house;  she  said  it  was  up  garret,  in  an 
old  chest,  with  some  papers  of  no  value.  Laura  ran  at 
once  and  brought  it,  and  I  read  to  her  the  whole  history, 
and  somehow  a  strange  sensation  came  over  us  all. 
Laura  inquired  what  effect  the  curse  upon  Adam  had 
on  us,  and  I  was  compelled  to  say  that  the  ministers  said 
we  were  all  in  consequence  sinners,  and  under  the  curse 
of  the  law,  and  under  condemnation  of  death  because  of  our 
sins ;  'but,'  said  I,  '  I  do  not  believe  one  word  of  it,'  while 
I  did  believe  it,  and  feared  in  consequence.  '  Well,'  said 
Laura, ' the  Bible  is  true, isn't  it ?'  I  replied,  'Yes,  I  sup 
pose  so.'  '  Well,  then,  I  should  think  it  was  high  time  that 
we  were  all  doing  something  to  get  rid  of  our  sins.'  At  this 
remark  I  had  a  strange  feeling  come  over  me,  and  I  could 
not  resist  the  conviction  that  I  was  a  sinner,  and  the  more 
I  thought  of  it  the  worse  I  felt,  until  I  spoke  to  my  wife 
about  it,  and  she  said  she  had  a  strange  feeling  come  over 
her  also;  'but,  law  me!'  said  she,  'it's  all  foolishness, 
and  we  better  banish  all  such  thoughts  from  our  minds  at 
once.  Laura  has  been  with  Aspasia  Horton  until  she 
has  got  her  head  completely  turned,  and  if  we  don't  look 
out  she  will  make  us  just  as  foolish.'  But,  somehow  (con 
tinued  Mr.  Greenwood),  I  could  not  throw  off  niy  feelings, 
and  last  Saturday  night,  when  we  sat  down  to  the  supper- 
table,  said  Laura,  'Pa,  why  don't  you  ask  a  blessing  upon 
the  food,  same  as  Mr.  Horton  and  Deacon  Jones  do  ?' 
This  was  a  stumper ;  I  was  feeling  bad  enough  before, 
and  rising  from  the  table  suddenly,  as  though  I  did  not 
hear  her,  I  said  to  wife,  '  You  need  not  wait  for  me  ;  I 
must  go  before  dark  and  see  whether  I  locked  the  barn 
doors  or  not,'  I  went  to  the  barn,  and,  dropping  upon 


ASPASIA.  25 

my  knees,  cried,  '  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  ;'  this  I 
repeated  several  times,  and  returned  to  the  house,  and 
somehow  I  felt  better  than  I  ever  did  before  ;  this  was 
(so  far  as  my  recollection  serves  me)  the  first  time  I  ever 
prayed.  On  returning  to  tea,  said  Laura,  '  Pa,  are  we  all 
going  to  Mr.  Shaw's  church  to-morrow  ?'  '  Yes,'  said  I, 
'  we  shall,  if  we  live.'  '  No,  we  sha'n't  do  any  such  thing,' 
said  my  wife.  I  made  no  reply,  and  Laura  burst  out 
crying;  and  finally  her  mother  said  if  she  would  stop 
crying  we  would  all  go  to  church ;  and  I  thank  God 
that  we  did,  though  this  terrible  accident  has  happened, 
for  there  I  heard  those  precious  truths  preached  by  you, 
the  declaration  of  Jesus,  '  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and 
the  life,'  and  that  precious  truth,  '  My  grace  shall  be  suf 
ficient  for  you.'  Oh,  I  tell  you,  Parson  Shaw,  I  have  been 
a  great  sinner,  and  while  you  were  preaching  that  ser 
mon  I  gave  myself  to  Jesus,  and  dedicated  everything  I 
have  to  him,  and  resolved  to  live  and  die  a  Christian. 
But  in  coming  home,  I  regret  to  say,  my  wife  was  very 
petulant,  and  found  a  great  deal  of  fault  with  you,  and 
with  me  for  going  to  church,  and  said  she'd  never  go 
again ;  and  then  Laura  commenced  crying,  and  finally 
wife  told  her  to  stop,  and  she  would  go  again  next  Sun 
day.  I  felt  sure  that  the  Spirit  of  God  was  at  work  on 
her  mind,  and  I  silently  prayed  for  her  conversion.  Just 
at  this  time  my  horse  got  frightened  at  a  cow  that  jumped 
out  of  the  bushes,  and  ran,  and  threw  us  out;  and  now 
wife  says  she  believes  God  did  it  so  that  we  should  think 
of  our  sins,  and  have  time,  free  from  the  cares  of  life,  to 
become  Christians." 

Mr.  Shaw  said  he  never  felt  more  rejoiced  in  his  life, 
and  he  talked  with  them  for  two  hours,  read  several  chap 
ters  in  the  Bible,  and  prayed  with  them. 

The  next  Sabbath  Mr.  Shaw  related  the  case  in  church 
3 


26  ASP  AS  I  A. 

after  sermon,  and  said  that  Brother  Greenwood  (he  called 
him  brother,  now)  had  considerable  hay  that  must  be  cut 
and  gathered  in,  and  he  presumed  other  work  that  should 
be  done,  and  asked  as  many  men  in  his  congregation  as 
could  possibly  leave  their  business  to  meet  him  at  Brother 
Greenwood's  house  to-morrow  (Monday)  morning,  at 
eight  o'clock,  with  all  the  necessary  tools  for  cutting  and 
gathering  his  hay ;  and  at  the  appointed  time  there  were 
about  forty  men,  besides  boys,  assembled  at  Mr.  Green 
wood's,  and,  under  the  directions  of  Parson  Shaw,  they 
gathered  rapidly  in  bis  barn  all  his  hay,  and  did  up  all 
other  necessary  work. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Greenwood  were  confined  to  the  house  a 
long  time,  and  the  first  place  they  rode  to,  after  recovering 
sufficiently  to  ride,  was  to  church. 

And  on  that  very  first  Sabbath  they  and  Laura  all 
united  with  the  church,  and  it  was  an  impressive  scene; 
all  three  were  baptized,  and  besides  them  there  were 
over  forty  persons  who  joined  the  church  that  day. 

The  accident  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Greenwood,  and  their 
conversion,  was  the  beginning  of  a  powerful  work  of 
grace  in  our  town ;  almost  every  family  was  visited,  and 
some  members  made  the  special  subjects  of  grace ;  and 
this  whole  work  commenced  with  the  story  I  told  the 
girls  in  the  pine  woods  by  the  brook. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"Although  unconscious  of  the  pleasing  charm, 

The  mind  still  bends  where  friendship  points  the  way; 
Let  virtue  then  thy  partner's  bosom  warm, 

Lest  vice  should  lead  thy  softened  soul  astray." 

SATURDAY  came,  when  Bell,  Laura,  Mary  and  I  were 
to  meet  in  the  "pine  woods  by  the  brook."  Owing  to 
her  parents'  misfortunes,  of  course  Laura  could  not  be 
there,  so  Bell  and  I  went  to  her  house ;  and  almost  the 
first  words  Laura  said  were,  "My  father  has  told  me  all 
about  the  snake  story,  and  says  God  was  the  owner  of 
the  garden,  and  the  name  of  it  was  Eden,  and  the  names 
of  the  man  and  his  wife  were  Adam  and  Eve  ;  and  father 
and  dother  both  say  they  are  so  glad  you  told  us  the 
story." 

I  asked  her  why.  She  said,  "  because  it  had  been  the 
means  of  leading  them  all  to  the  Saviour." 

Laura  said,  also,  she  didn't  feel  like  playing  then,  and, 
besides,  she  must  be  with  her  parents  to  help  nurse  them. 
We  both  understood  her  feelings,  and  our  sympathies  were 
drawn  out  toward  her,  and  we  volunteered  to  assist  her 
in  administering  comfort  to  her  parents,  so  far  as  we  were 
able.  Thus  we  spent  the  entire  day,  promising,  when  we 
left,  to  repeat  the  visit,  which  we  did  often  during  their 
confinement.  Thus  an  enduring  friendship  was  formed 
between  us,  which  grew  with  our  growth  and  increased 
with  our  years. 

Summer  vacation  having  passed,  I  again  resumed  my 

(27) 


28  A  SPA  SI  A. 

studies  at  the  district  school,  which  I  continued  until 
spring.  Then  sister  Elizabeth,  having  completed  her 
studies,  returned  home,  and  I  afterward  entered  the  same 
seminary.  I  should  have  entered  at  the  fall  term,  but,  as 
sister  Kate  was  to  be  married  on  Thanksgiving,  mother 
said  she  could  not  endure  to  have  all  her  daughters  away 
from  home  during  the  winter. 

As  Thanksgiving  drew  near,  Parson  Shaw's  visits  at 
our  house  became  more  frequent,  and  about  two  weeks 
before  Thanksgiving,  at  a  meeting  of  the  sewing-society, 
at  the  house  of  Dr.  Goodman,  in  the  village,  Jane  Fisher 
took  sister  Kate  aside,  and,  said  she,  "  We  have  some 
private  business  to  talk  over,  that  you  had  better  not 
hear." 

Kate  took  the  hint,  and  pretended  she  had  an  errand  at 
the  store,  and,  as  soon  as  she  left,  said  Jane,  "  Ladies,  I 
suppose  you  all  know  that  Parson  Shaw  and  Kate  Hor- 
ton  are  to  be  married  on  Thanksgiving,  and  in  church, 
too ;  the  parson  has  already  rented  a  house,  and  I  think 
the  society  ought  to  furnish  it  for  them,  for  he  is  just  com 
mencing,  and  is  poor,  and  his  salary  of  a  thousand  dol 
lars  won't  any  more  than  support  them,  let  alone  pur 
chase  furniture,  and  certainly  there  never  was  a  minis 
ter  who  labored  more  faithfully  than  he." 

This  was  received  with  a  hearty  response  by  all ;  but, 
said  they,  "  Jane,  how  do  you  know  they  are  to  be  married 
so  soon?" 

"How  do  I  know  it  ?"  said  she  ;  "  don't  I  know  it,  and 
don't  I  know  all  that's  going  on  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bacon,  "  you  do ;  if  you  do  not,  then 
you  have  changed  amazingly." 

"  Well,"  said  Jane,  "  it  is  fortunate  for  you  that  there 
is  one  who  keeps  posted,  and  can  inform  you  ladies  of 
what  is  going  on." 


A  SPA  SI  A.  29 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Woodman,  "  what  shall  be  done  ?" 

Different  plans  were  suggested ;  and  finally  a  com 
mittee  of  five  ladies,  with  Jane  Fisher  as  chairman,  was 
appointed  to  call  upon  the  gentlemen  of  the  town  the 
next  day  and  solicit  subscriptions,  and  to  meet  and  re 
port  at  an  adjourned  meeting,  then  to  decide  upon  further 
action.  At  that  meeting  there  were  twice  as  many 
present  as  there  were  at  the  first. 

Neither  my  mother  nor  Kate  knew  of  the  adjourned 
meeting;  the  ladies  purposely  kept  it  from  them  ;  and,  had 
they  known  it,  they  would  not  have  been  able  to  be  pres 
ent,  as  my  Uncle  and  Aunt  Horton  were  visiting  us. 

The  committee,  being  called  on,  reported  cash  subscrip 
tions  to  the  amount  of  twelve  hundred  dollars ;  and,  be 
sides  this,  Mr.  Greenwood  subscribed  ten  cords  of  wood, 
Farmer  Osgood,  a  new  milch  cow,  and  Deacon  Jones, 
t\vo  tons  of  hay. 

The  ladies  were  all  delighted  at  their  success,  as  well 
they  might  be.  A  good  many  things  were  promised  by 
them  besides  those  donations  mentioned. 

The  questions  then  arose,  what  to  purchase,  and  how 
to  get  possession  of  the  house  without  informing  the  par 
son,  for  they  intended  to  take  him  and  Kate  by  surprise. 
They  finally  hit  upon  the  following  expedient. 

They  sent  for  Mr.  Brown,  the  owner  of  the  house ;  he 
came  at  once,  and  they  stated  the  case  to  him.  He 
replied,  "I  have  the  keys  of  the  house  yet,  and  I  will 
say  to  Parson  Shaw  that  he  must  secure  board  for  him 
self  and  wife  at  Mr.  Horton's  for  a  couple  of  months; 
Mini  as  soon  as  I  get  the  house  fixed  for  him  I  will  let 
him  know." 

"Capital !"  they  all  shouted. 

-  The  committee  then  proceeded  to  the  business  in  hand, 
and  before  Thanksgiving  Day  the  house  \v;is  furnished  from 

3* 


30  ASP  AS  I  A. 

garret  to  cellar.  Mr.  Greenwood  had  drawn  his  wood 
and  piled  it  in  the  shed ;  Deacon  Jones  had  put  the  hay 
in  the  barn ;  and,  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  Farmer  Osgood 
drove  the  cow  into  the  yard. 

Our  family  were  all  at  home  that  day.  There  was 
father,  mother,  John  and  his  wife  and  little  boy,  James, 
William,  Kate,  Elizabeth,  and  myself,  also  Uncle  and 
Aunt  Horton — from  New  York;  and  Parson  Shaw  was 
also  with  us  at  dinner.  We  all  went  to  church,  leav 
ing  the  girl  to  roast  the  turkeys.  And,  so  far  as  the 
preaching  was  concerned,  people  said  it  was  a  great  deal 
better  than  they  supposed  it  would  be  under  the  circum 
stances. 

Directly  after  the  sermon  Mr.  Shaw  came  down  from 
the  pulpit,  and  met  Kate  at  the  pew-door  and  escorted 
her  in  front  of  the  altar,  and  they  were  joined  in  the  holy 
bands  of  matrimony  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Sprague,  from  a 
neighboring  town,  who  had  volunteered  to  perform  the 
ceremony.  He  was  a  fast  friend  of  Parson  Shaw. 

Mother  advised  Kate  to  be  married  in  church,  and  then 
no  one  would  feel  hurt  at  not  being  invited  to  the  wed 
ding. 

After  meeting,  Kate  asked  Jane  Fisher  to  spend  the 
evening  at  our  house ;  but  she  declined,  saying  she  was 
engaged.  Soon  after  arriving  at  home,  dinner  was  an 
nounced,  and  we  all  gathered  around  such  a  Thanksgiv 
ing  dinner  as  none  but  my  mother  could  prepare.  There 
were  fifteen  in  all,  for  the  Rev.  Dr.  Sprague  and  his  wife 
came  home  from  church  with  us.  Many  were  the  inno 
cent  jokes  at  that  table,  perpetrated  at  the  expense  of 
Kate  and  Mr.  Shaw. 

While  at  the  table,  Mr.  Brown's  boy  George  rode  up 
to  the  door  on  horseback,  and  handed  a  letter  to  the 
kitchen-girl.  She  brought  it  to  my  father,  and  remarked 


A  SPAS  I  A.  31 

that  the  boy  would  wait  for  a  reply.     Fattier  opened  the 
letter,  and  read  it  aloud,  as  follows : 

"EDWARD   HORTON,  ESQ. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR: — For  your  new  son-in-law,  my  beloved 
pastor,  Rev.  Mr.  Shaw,  I  entertain  the  profoundest  re 
gard,  and  even  more,  I  love  him  for  the  brilliancy  of  his 
intellect  and  the  depth  and  ardor  of  his  Christian  charac 
ter  ;  and  in  this  I  do  but  express  the  sentiments  of  this 
entire  community.  For  your  daughter  Kate,  now  Mrs. 
Shaw,  I  cannot  find  language  to  express  the  admiration 
and  love  entertained  toward  her  by  all  the  ladies  of  the 
town;  and  for  yourself,  and  the  other  members  of  your 
family,  I  need  not  assure  you  of  my  high  esteem.  Your 
friends  are  desirous  your  entire  family  should  meet  us  and 
spend  this  evening  at  the  house  I  have  rented  to  Mr. 
Shaw,  and  which  I  intend  he  shall  occupy  so  soon  as  it 
is  in  fit  condition.  Quite  likely  your  family  and  friends 
will  disperse  soon  after  Thanksgiving  is  over,  and  it  may 
be  interesting  to  them  to  know  where  your  daughter  is 
to  reside.  We  will  have  the  house  warmed,  and  try  and 
make  it  comfortable  and  pleasant,  and  shall  expect  to  see 
you  all. 

"  Yours,  in  behalf  of  many  friends, 

"  HORATIO  BROWN." 

While  father  was  reading  the  letter,  I  observed  side 
glances  being  cast,  first  from  mother  to  Kate,  then  be 
tween  Kate  and  Mr.  Shaw,  then  between  Uncle  and  Aunt 
Horton,  and  between  the  boys  and  girls. 

Finishing  the  letter,  said  father,  "  Mr.  Shaw,  what  do 
you  say  ?" 

He  replied,  "  It  is  a  mystery  to  me ;  I  do  not  under 
stand  it  at  all." 


32  A  SPA  SI  A. 

But  mother  winked  at  Kate,  and  said  she,  "  I  think  I 
do.  We  will  all  go." 

So  father  returned  a  note,  saying-  we  should  all  accept 
the  invitation. 

After  supper,  Kate  called  mother  into  "  the  best  room," 
and  said  she,  "  Mother,  what  do  you  suppose  all  this 
means  ?" 

Said  mother,  "  Kate,  don't  you  remember  Jane  Fisher 
wanted  to  have  you  leave  the  sewing-society  at  Dr.  Wood 
man's  ?  That  has  something  to  do  with  this  evening's 
party ;  and,  if  it  was  not  for  the  very  hard  times,  as  I 
heard  your  father  say,  I  should  expect  they  were  a  going 
to  make  you  and  your  husband  a  present ;  but,  the  truth 
is,  the  people  are  too  poor  to  expect  anything  from  them, 
by  way  of  presents,  until  business  revives." 

"  Oh.  yes,"  replied  Kate.  "  I  would  not  ask  one  of 
them  for  a  single  penny." 

As  night  came  on,  the  horses  were  all  harnessed  and 
at  the  door.  There  were  four  carriages  of  us  all,  so  we 
drove  off  down  the  road,  through  the  "  pine  woods,"  and 
as  we  passed  Deacon  Jones's,  the  deacon  and  his  wife  and 
children  were  just  starting  out  of  the  yard  in  their  two- 
horse  carriage,  and  followed  us. 

Arriving  at  the  house,  we  found  it  brilliantly  lighted, 
and  it  seemed  as  though  the  whole  town  was  there.  On 
going  in,  we  were  greeted  by  the  church-choir  singing  a 
thanksgiving  anthem,  after  which  we  were  shown  all  over 
the  house,  which  was  furnished  thoroughly  in  every  room  ; 
crockery  and  cutlery  well  stored  away  upon  the  pantry 
shelves;  all  kitchen  arrangements  perfect;  cellars  well 
stored  with  potatoes,  apples,  squashes,  etc.  We  were 
all  led  to  the  wood-shed,  where  Farmer  Greenwood  had 
piled  his  wood  ;  from  here  we  went  to  the  barn,  and  saw 
the  sweet  herds'-grass,  placed  in  the  mow  by  Deacon 


A  SPA  SI  A.  33 

Jones,  and  the  Farmer-Osgood  cow  was  taking  her  sap 
per  from  a  crib  full  of  the  same. 

On  returning  to  the  house,  and  being  seated  in  the  par 
lor,  Mr.  Brown  stated  "that  on  behalf  of  the  numerous 
friends  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Shaw  and  his  accomplished  and 
devoted  Christian  wife,  all  that  they  had  seen,  and  one 
year's  lease  (free  of  costs)  of  the  house  itself,  were  here 
presented  to  him  as  a  small  token  of  their  love." 

Mr.  Shaw  was  so  completely  overwhelmed  by  this 
munificence  that  he  sat  speechless,  and  Kate  burst  into 
loud  sobs,  and,  indeed,  there  were  but  few  dry  eyes  there. 

I  could  not  help  crying  as  I  saw  Kate  give  way. 

After  some  moments  Mr.  Shaw  rose,  and  replied,  or 
rather  acknowledged  the  gift,  as  follows  : 

"  Brother  Brown,  and  each  and  all  of  these  messengers 
of  love  who  have  contributed  either  directly  or  indirectly 
to  this  munificent  gift,  you  have  taken  us  so  entirely  by 
surprise,  and  your  benefactions  are  so  liberally  bestowed, 
that  I  feel  wholly  incompetent  to  make  to  you  a  befitting 
acknowledgment.  Most  surely  such  acts  of  love  can 
only  flow  from  hearts  divested  of  selfishness,  and  ele 
vated  by  affection.  I  fear  we  are  unworthy  of  being 
made  the  recipients  of  such  distinguished  tokens  of  re 
gard." 

"No,  you  are  not,"  said  Jane  Fisher,  who  stood  with 
a  tray  in  her  hand,  ready  to  pass  round  the  cake  as  soon 
as  the  parson  finished  his  speech. 

He  proceeded :  "  lean  only  say,  further,  we  thank  you, 
one  and  all  ;  and  we  shall  ever  labor  and  pray  that  the 
richest  of  God's  blessings  may  descend  and  rest  upon  you, 
and  upon  this  whole  community;  and  such  nobility  of 
soul  predominating  in  society  will  insure  the  blessings 
of  Heaven  upon  you  all." 

All  who  could  obtain  chairs  did  so  ;  others  stood,  and 


34  A  SPA  SI  A. 

many  were  compelled  to  -leave  for  lack  of  room  in  the 
house. 

At  about  nine  o'clock  the  people  all  bade  Kate  and  her 
husband  good-night,  and  left  for  their  homes. 

Our  family  were  then  left  alone,  and,  after  consultation, 
it  was  decided  that  Mr.  Shaw  and  Kate  should,  from  that 
moment,  occupy  the  house,  instead  of  boarding  at  our 
house,  as  they  expected  to,  and  also  that  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Sprague  should  spend  the  night  there.  This  being  agreed 
upon,  the  rest  of  us  returned  home. 

So  passed  that  Thanksgiving.  Our  friends  spent  the 
next  day  with  us,  "to  finish  up  the  rice  puddings,"  as 
Aunt  Horton  said,  and  then  all  returned  to  their  homes. 
The  next  week  Elizabeth  returned  to  the  seminary,  and 
I  again  commenced  going  to  school. 

Winter  passed  by ;  and  it  was  a  cold,  dreary  New 
England  winter,  with  a  great  depth  of  snow,  that  lay 
upon  the  ground  until  late  in  spring. 

I  took  a  violent  cold,  which  I  was  not  able  to  throw  off, 
and  which  settled  into  a  severe  cough,  so  that  I  did  not 
get  rid  of  it  until  the  warm  weather  of  summer  came ; 
consequently,  I  did  not  enter  the  Young  Ladies'  Seminary 
until  the  fall  term.  Bell  Jones,  Laura  Greenwood,  Mary 
Osgood,  and  myself  entered  together,  which  made  it  very 
pleasaat,  as  all  others  were  strangers  to  us. 

The  school-building  was  quite  imposing  in  its  outward 
appearance,  built  of  brick,  three  stories  and  basement  in 
height,  and  proportionately  large  upon  the  ground,  front 
ing  the  east,  with  north  and  south  wings ;  at  the  front 
entrance  was  a  spacious  hall  and  corridors,  leading  en 
tirely  through  the  main  building,  and  narrower  ones 
through  the  two  wings,  at  right  angles  from  the  main 
entrance. 

The  house  was  thronged  during  "  opening  day"  with 


ASPASTA.  35 

scholars  and  their  parents  and  friends  who  had  brought 
them  hither.  We  were  assigned  rooms  in  the  third  story, 
with  windows  looking  toward  the  south,  upon  as  beautiful 
a  landscape  as  the  eye  ever  beheld  ;  the  broad  river,  flow 
ing  majestically  through  the  meadows ;  the  trees  were 
putting  on  their  beautiful  autumn  tints,  and  everything 
around  seemed  as  though  Nature's  greatest  artist  had 
dipped  his  pencil  in  his  most  exquisite  colors,  and  had 
painted  in  such  numberless  varieties  of  shades  as  to  ren 
der  the  scenery  beautiful  beyond  description. 

Early  the  following  morning  the  bell  sounded,  and,  as 
by  instinct,  we  quickly  arose,  and  hastened  our  toilets, 
and,  at  the  sound  of  the  second  bell,  the  girls  all  left  their 
rooms,  and  were  directed  into  the  large  dining-room,  and, 
before  sitting  to  the  tables,  we  were  addressed  by  the 
principal  of  the  semhiary,  as  follows : 

"  Young  ladies,  your  parents  have  sent  you  to  me  to 
be  instructed  and  fitted  for  usefulness  in  life ;  and  by  my 
individual  efforts,  and  by  the  aid  of  my  assistants,  I  shall 
spare  no  labor  nor  pains  to  make  you  as  proficient  as  pos 
sible  in  all  the  sciences  to  which  you  shall  devote  your 
attention.  But  remember  the  words  of  the  old  poet, 
'  Earn  thy  reward ;  God  gives  naught  to  sloth,'  and 
bear  in  mind  that  the  few  months  or  years  you  are  to 
spend  with  me  is  precious  time,  and  that  if  you  neglect 
these  golden  opportunities  and  waste  your  time  in  idle 
ness,  you  will  have  it  to  regret  in  after-life." 

We  then  sat  down  to  a  breakfast  of  plain  but  substan 
tial  fare,  and,  after  breakfast  and  worship,  repaired  to  our 
rooms  to  await  the  call  to  examination,  which  was  held 
during  the  day. 

There  were  over  three  hundred  scholars,  and  of  that 
number  there  were  aliout  seventy  new  ones.  I  soon 
formed  acquaintances,  and  many  that  afterward  became 
very  dear  friends. 


36  ASP  ASIA. 

The  first  few  weeks  of  our  school  passed  off  quietly, 
nothing  of  note  occurring  to  disturb  the  equilibrium  of 
our  minds  and  interrupt  our  thoughts  of  home. 

As  many  of  the  girls  were  comparative  strangers  to 
each  other,  a  certain  degree  of  reserve  was  manifested 
by  nearly  all,  and  those  of  us  especially  who  had  just 
entered  the  seminary  were  intent  upon  our  studies  (at 
least,  it  was  so  with  me),  that  we  might  stand  well  in 
our  recitations  and  thus  command  the  respect  of  the  lady 
principal  and  teachers. 

Winter  at  last  came  upon  us,  and  with  it  evening 
parties,  public  lectures,  held  in  the  town-hall,  and  an  oc 
casional  sleigh-ride  was  enjoyed. 

The  principal  of  the  seminary,  Miss  Haywood,  was  in 
appearance  one  of  those  precise,  conservative  ladies  who 
feared  to  give  expression,  either  by  word  or  act,  to  the 
real  sentiments  of  her  soul,  lest  she  would  seem  undignified 
and  thereby  fail  to  convey  that  impression  of  awe  which 
ladies  who  occupy  such  positions  seem  to  think  is  essen 
tial.  The  result  was  that,  while  all  feared  her,  none  loved 
her :  consequeotly,  there  was  no  filial  obedience.  The 
teachers,  on  the  whole,  were  genial  and  sympathetic,  often 
engaging  with  the  girls  in  their  innocent  evening  sports. 

Agreeable  to  promise  when  I  left  home,  I  wrote  one 
letter  each  week  to  my  parents,  and  as  regularly  received 
replies  from  them,  all  of  which  I  have  preserved  with 
care,  for  the  valuable  lessons  of  instruction  they  con 
tained,  and  the  deep,  parental  solicitude  manifested  upon 
every  page.  And  if  young  ladies  could  all  realize  fully 
the  depth  of  paternal  love,  and  the  deep  anxiety  of  parents 
for  their  welfare,  I  am  sure  there  would  be  fewer  erring 
ones  than  there  are.  And,  exposed  to  temptations  as  I 
was  while  at  the  seminary,  I  very  much  fear  that  had  it 
not  been  for  those  frequent  missives  of  love  from  home,  re- 


A  SPA  SI  A.  3t 

plete  with  wisdom,  I  should  have  gone  astray,  or  at  least 
so  far  neglected  my  opportunities  as  to  have  caused  me 
sincere  regrets  in  after-life  ;  and,  when  hearing  other  girls 
remark  that  they  had  not  heard  from  home  for  several 
weeks,  I  could  but  think  that  their  parents  either  from  igno 
rance  neglected  an  important  duty,  or  were  wholly  devoid 
of  that  degree  of  solicitude  which  ought  always  to  be  ex 
ercised  by  parents  for  their  children.  And,  being  naturally 
of  a  philosophical  turn,  I  took  pains  to  note  the  progress 
of  certain  girls  with  whom  I  was  the  most  familiar,  and 
I  found  it  an  invariable  rule  that  those  who  lived  the 
nearest,  in  correspondence,  thought,  and  affection,  with 
their  friends  at  home,  were  the  most  proficient  scholars. 
I  also  soon  learned  another  important  fact  in  this  connec 
tion,  which  was,  that  those  girls  who  often  rece:ved 
letters  from  their  parents  received  more  attention  than 
others  from  the  principal ;  for  the  postman,  who  delivered 
the  letters  to  the  seminary,  was  charged  to  deliver  them 
to  no  one  but  herself :  thus  she  was  aware  of  all  the  cor 
respondence,  and  never,  until  she  had  inspected  the  en 
velopes,  did  she  send  them  to  the  rooms  where  they 
belonged. 

With  my  close  application  to  studies,  frequent  and 
regular  correspondence  with  my  parents,  occasional  let 
ters  to  and  from  my  brothers  and  sisters  and  other  friends, 
my  time  was  thoroughly  occupied ;  consequently,  I  saw 
but  little,  comparatively,  of  Miss  Haywood,  at  least  saw 
her  but  seldom  out  of  school-hours,  during  the  first  two 
months  which  I  spent  at  the  seminary. 

One  evening,  late  in  the  winter,  I  was  sitting  in  my 
room  alone,  reading  over  the  second  time  a  precious  letter 
received  from  my  mother  (my  room-mate  being  at  an 
evening  party,  to  which  I  was  also  invited),  when  I  heard 
a  gentle  rap  at  my  door,  and,  on  opening  it,  I  quite  um-x- 

4 


38  ASPASIA. 

pectedly  met  Miss  Hay  wood.  She  came  in  and  seated 
herself.  I  was  so  greatly  surprised  at  this  unusual  oc 
currence  that  I  knew  not  what  to  say.  She  seemed  to 
observe  my  embarrassment,  and  at  once  handed  me  a 
letter,  saying,  "Aspasia,  I  have  another  letter  from  your 
father  for  you."  I  thanked  her,  and  remarked  that  I  was 
just  reading  over  the  second  time  my  mother's  last  letter. 
She  then  inquired  why  I  did  not  attend  the  party  that 
evening,  and  if  I  did  not  receive  an  invitation.  "  Oh, 
yes,"  I  replied  ;  "  I  received  a  very  polite  invitation ;  but 
it  was  the  day  that  I  should  hear  from  home,  and  I  pre 
ferred  to  stay  in  my  room  and  read  and  answer  the  letter  ; 
but  as  this  letter  did  not  come  when  I  expected,  I  could 
enjoy  myself  no  better  than  in  reading  over  niy  mother's 
last  letter."  She  remarked,  "Your  parents  must  indeed 
cherish  for  you  the  highest  degree  of  affection,  and  I  am 
sure  it  is  fully  reciprocated  on  your  part ;  and  I  have  be 
come  so  impressed  at  the  frequent  correspondence  between 
yourself  and  your  parents,  and  also  your  rapid  progress 
in  your  studies,  that  I  am  persuaded  you  will  do  credit  to 
yourself,  and  honor  your  parents  and  this  institution ;  and 
I  have  called  upon  you  this  evening,  I  presume  unexpect 
edly  to  you,  to  assure  you  of  my  special  regard;  for  'vir 
tue  earns  its  own  reward ;'  and  if  I  can  be  of  any  special 
service  to  you  at  any  time,  you  are  at  liberty  to  send  for 
me  or  call  at  my  room.  And  in  your  next  letter  to  your 
parents  give  them  my  regards,  and  say  to  them  that  by 
their  faithfulness  to  their  daughter  they  have  placed  me 
under  obligations." 

She  kissed  me  a  good-night,  and  retired,  and,  for  sev 
eral  moments,  I  sat  as  one  that  dreamed.  I  could  hardly 
believe  it  was  a  reality  that  the  august  presence  of  the 
lady  principal  of  the  seminary  had  manifested  herself  in 
my  room;  but,  dropping  a  book  I  held  in  my  hand,  I 


AS  PAST  A.  39 

awoke  from  my  reveries,  and  seizing  my  father's  letter, 
which  Miss  Haywood  had  so  kindly  brought  me,  I  tore 
open  the  envelope,  and  hastily  read  as  follows : 

"  MY  AFFECTIONATE  DAUGHTER  ASPASIA  : — Your  highly 
esteemed  letter  of  the  25th  ultimo  reached  us  on  the  27th, 
and  would  have  been  answered  that  same  evening  but 
for  press  of  business,  which  absolutely  prevented.  Your 
mother  and  myself  have  read  and  re-read  the  letter,  as  we 
do  all  of  your  precious  letters.  Dear  daughter,  you  cannot 
fully  appreciate  the  real  happiness  you  confer  upon  us  by 
your  frequent  letters ;  and  to  know,  as  we  do,  that  our 
dear  child,  away  from  home,  in  the  company  of  so  many 
young  and  lively  ladies,  and  introduced  to  so  many  gay 
and  lively  scenes  to  which  hitherto  you  were  a  stranger, 
is  still  so  deeply  attached  to  her  parents  as  to  neglect 
every  other  pleasure  for  the  privilege  of  frequent  corre 
spondence,  every  line  of  which  breathes  forth  the  greatest 
depth  of  filial  affection,  is,  I  assure  you,  a  consolation  and 
pleasure  that  none  but  a  parent  can  appreciate  and  under 
stand.  And,  independent  of  the  joy  which  it  brings  to  us, 
we  are  glad  to  know  that  you  value  your  privileges,  and 
have  fully  resolved  to  improve  every  moment  you  are  to 
spend  at  the  seminary  to  become  highly  educated,  and  thus 
be  prepared  for  usefulness  in  life,  and  enjoy  the  bliss  of 
heaven  in  just  that  much  greater  degree  ;  for  I  believe  that 
saints  in  glory  will  immediately  enter  upon  degrees  grad 
uated  according  to  their  intellectual  attainments;  and  that 
is  one  reason — if  not  the  reason — why  our  Lord  seemed 
to  place  so  much  importance  upon  the  cultivation  of  the 
talents  he  had  given  to  men,  and  led  him  to  utter  the  par 
able  of  the  talents. 

"  You  wrote  that  you  were  invited  to  an  evening  party 
on  Tuesday.  Wo  suppose  you  will  accept  the  invitation  ; 


40  A  SPAS  I  A. 

but,  whether  you  do  or  not,  we  wish  you  to  remember 
that  your  time  is  comparatively  short  at  the  seminary, 
and  that,  after  you  have  completed  your  education,  you 
will  have  the  capacity  to  learn  more  from  society  in  one 
week,  or  at  least  in  one  month,  than  you  now  can  in  an 
entire  year.  And  your  mother  and  I  have  concluded  to 
take  you  and  Elizabeth  and  spend  your  next  summer's 
vacation  at  the  sea-side.  We  can,  therefore,  only  urge 
upon  you,  what  we  know  you  will  perform, — viz.,  the 
closest  attention  to  your  studies. 

"  With  a  father's  love, 

"EDWARD  HORTON." 

I  folded  the  letter,  with  my  eyes  nearly  blinded  with 
tears  of  gratitude  and  love,  and,  it  being  late,  retired  for 
the  night. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  When  virtuous  thoughts  warm  the  celestial  mind, 
With  generous  heat  each  sentiment's  refined; 
Th'  immortal  perfumes  breathing  from  the  heart, 
With  grateful  odors  sweeten  every  part. 

"But  when  our  vicious  passions  fire  the  soul, 
The  clea.rest  fountains  grow  corrupt  and  foul; 
The  virgin  springs,  which  should  untainted  flow, 
Run  thick,  and  blacken  all  the  stream  below." 

IT  was  a  saying  among  the  ancient  Grecian  philoso 
phers  that  no  master  could  be  found  that  was  qualified  to 
instruct  others  in  virtue.  One  of  them,  referring  to  the 
beauty  and  attractiveness  of  youth,  by  reason  of  dress 
and  perfumes,  inquired  of  Socrates,  "  But  as  for  you  and 
me,  who  are  past  the  age,  what  ought  we  to  possess  ?" 
and  received  an  answer  replete  with  wisdom: — "  Virtue 
and  honor." 

As  I  peruse  the  pages  of  Grecian  history,  and  study 
the  profound  philosophy  taught  by  the  men  of  wisdom 
and  culture  of  that  nation  in  that  dark  and  dreary  age,  I 
can  but  admire  and  venerate  them  ;  and  if  some  of  them 
were  not  righteous  before  God,  they  come  so  very  close  to 
it  that  I  am  unable  to  distinguish  the  difference  between 
them  and  Christians ;  for,  surely,  if  Christians  lived  as 
fully  up  to  the  light  they  enjoy  as  many  of  the  ancient 
Grecian  philosophers  did,  we  should  witness  a  far  greater 
degree  of  true  piety  and  godly  sincerity  evinced  in  their 
daily  life  than  we  now  do.  And,  while  they  lamented 
that  no  man  was  capable  of  teaching  virtue,  we,  who  live 

4*  (41) 


42  ASPASIA. 

under  a  Christian  dispensation,  have  One,  the  man  Christ 
Jesus,  who  is  able  to  teach  his  fellow-man  virtue. 

I  was  led  to  the  foregoing  reflections  by  a  conversation 
I  had  with  one  of  the  girls  at  the  seminary  during  my 
first  year.  Her  name  was  Rose  Blackwell ;  her  parents 
resided  in  Boston,  and  were  very  wealthy,  and,  as  I  gath 
ered  from  her  in  frequent  conversations,  she  had  (to  use 
a  homely  phrase)  "  had  her  own  way  ever  since  she  was 
born."  When  she  was  quite  young,  if  she  wished  for 
anything,  and  was  refused,  all  that  was  necessary  on  her 
part  was  to  cry,  and  she  was  sure  to  get  it.  Of  course 
she  soon  learned  that  she  could  be  the  master,  or,  rather, 
mistress,  of  any  situation  in  which  she  might  be  placed, 
and,  following  an  immutable  law,  as  she  grew  older  her  self- 
will  grew  more  stubborn,  and  her  filial  attachments  weaker, 
until  she  had  become  so  obdurate  and  willful  that  she 
was  always  unhappy,  and  a  very  disagreeable  companion. 
She  7/as  very  fond  of  dress,  and  her  milliner's  and  rnantua- 
makcr's  bills  were  enormous.  But,  to  use  her  own  lan 
guage,  "  Law  me  !  Avhat  do  I  care  ?  father  has  plenty  of 
money,  and  it  can  be  appropriated  to  no  better  purpose." 
She  had  a  great  dislike  to  study,  and  could  not  endure 
quiet  reflection.  I  have  heard  her  say  she  would  rather 
go  deranged,  and  lose  her  reason  entirely,  than  to  be 
compelled  to  sit  down  alone  and  think.  As  may  be  in 
ferred,  she  was  exceedingly  morose  ;  and,  notwithstand 
ing  all  these  disagreeable  traits  of  character,  she  was  very 
attractive  to  strangers,  for  Nature  had  endowed  her  with 
a  good  intellect,  perfection  of  form  and  feature,  added  to 
which,  her  splendid  dress  made  her  the  center  of  attrac 
tion  among  strangers  wherever  she  went,  all  which  was 
pleasing  to  her  vanity  and  flattering  to  her  pride,  and,  un 
consciously  to  her,  increased  her  haughtiness  and  self- 
will. 


AS  PASTA  43 

Although  I  never  associated  with  Rose  more  than 
courtesy  demanded,  yet  we  had  become  pretty  well  ac 
quainted;  and  I  could  not  resist  the  conviction  that,  from 
some  unexplainable  cause,  she  had  taken  a  great  fancy 
to  me. 

It  was  not  because  I  flattered  her,  or  courted  her  com 
pany;  for,  while  that  was  true  of  many  in  the  seminary,  it 
was  not  of  me,  for  I  never  did  either.  I  rarely,  if  ever, 
held  conversation  with  her  for  five  minutes  at  a  time  that 
I  did  not  upbraid  her  for  her  evil  deeds ;  and  I  never 
sought  her  society. 

One  Sabbath,  being  ill,  I  did  not  attend  church  ;  my 
room-mate  did.  Thus  I  was  left  alone.  Soon  after,  all 
who  were  going  to  church  had  left  the  seminary,  some 
one  rapped  loudly  at  my  door.  I  at  once  opened  it,  feel 
ing  a  little  vexed  that  my  solitude  should  be  disturbed ; 
and  who  should  it  be  but  Rose  Black  well  ?  I  invited  her 
in  and  to  a  seat. 

Being  seated,  she  inquired,  "  Well,  Aspasia,  how  hap 
pens  it  that  you  do  not  attend  church  to-day  ?" 

I  replied  that  I  felt  quite  ill,  and  therefore  unable  to  go 
out.  "  But,"  said  I,  "  why  are  not  you  at  church  ?" 

"Well,"  said  she,  "that  is  one  thing  I  have  come  to 
talk  with  you  about;  but,  if  you  are  too  ill,  I  will  return 
to  my  room  and  call  upon  you  at  another  time." 

I  thought  within  myself,  "Now,  here  is  an  opportunity 
to  do  good.  God  has  kept  me  from  church  to  give  this 
young  lady  an  opportunity,  it  may  be,  to  unburden  her 
soul  to  me,  and  possibly  acknowledge  her  errors  and  ask 
for  advice." 

I  therefore  replied,  that  I  was  not  so  ill  but  that  I 
should  be  pleased  to  converse  with  her  if  I  could  do  her 
any  good. 

"Yes,"  said  she,  "there  it  is  again.     Do  any  good  ! 


44  A  SPA  SI  A. 

I  never  in  my  life  saw  a  girl  that  was  always  so  intent 
upon  doing  somebody  some  good  as  you  are ;  but,  to  tell 
you  the  truth,  I  want  to  have  a  good  long  talk  with  you, 
whether  it  does  either  of  us  any  good  or  not." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  speak  on.  Unburden  your  soul,  Rose, 
if  you  have  anything  to  say;  but,  mind  you,  I  want 
none  of  your  nonsense." 

"  Nonsense !"  said  she.    "  What  do  you  call  nonsense  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  you.  There  has  scarcely  been  a  conversa 
tion  between  us  that  you  have  not  spoken  ill  of  many  of 
the  girls  in  the  seminary,  and  rarely,  if  ever,  spoken  well 
of  one.  And  you  have  thrust  upon  me  your  skepticisms 
of  religion,  when  you  very  well  knew  it  was  not  only 
annoying  to  me,  but  you  must  have  known  it  caused  me 
pain.  You  have  made  light  of  religion,  and  ridiculed  my 
professions.  Now,  all  this  is  nonsense.  You  yourself 
do  not  believe  you  are  right.  You  are  dissatisfied  with 
yourself.  Your  soul  is  not  at  rest.  There  is  a  disquiet 
ude  which  of  itself  renders  you  unhappy,  and,  unless 
you  change  your  course,  will  end  in  your  complete  ruin." 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "it  is  unusual  to  preach  a  sermon 
without  a  text ;  but  you  have  done  it,  sure." 

"No,"  I  replied,  "for  your  everyday  life,  since  you 
have  been  in  the  seminary,  has  been  a  living  text  to  me, 
and  I  have  longed  for  an  opportunity  to  preach  you  this 
sermon,  as  you  style  it.  Not  that  I  have  the  least  idea 
you  will  heed  it,  but  to  discharge  my  duty  to  you ;  for  I 
should  love  to  see  you  a  better  girl.  And  were  you  to 
put  away  your  evil  habits  and  thoughts,  and  change  your 
whole  course  of  life,  with  the  wealth  and  influence  you 
can  command,  your  strong  will  and  persistency  of  pur 
pose,  you  can  accomplish  a  vast  amount  of  good,  and 
also  be  respected  and  loved  by  every  one ;  while  now 
there  are  many  weak-minded  ones  who  flatter  and  fawn 


A  SPA  SI  A.  45 

around  you  simply  because  of  the  elegance  of  your  dress 
and  the  great  wealth  your  father  possesses.  There  are 
very  few,  if  any,  who  sincerely  love  you,  whose  affection 
is  so  deep  and  lasting  as  that  they  would  cling  to  you 
even  though  cold  adversity  should  come  upon  you ;  and 
come  it  may,  for  aught  you  or  I  can  tell ;  and  should  it 
come,  you  will  then  feel  the  need  of  true  friendship." 

To  this  she  replied,  "  You  are  pretty  severe  with  me.  If 
I  really  thought  I  was  as  bad  as  you  have  represented,  I 
should  be  driven  to  despair.  I  really  wish  I  had  not 
called  on  you.  But,  somehow,  I  fancied  you  were  my 
real  friend  ;  and  you  have  conducted  yourself  in  such  an 
unostentatious  manner  and  apparent  consistency  with 
your  professions  that,  as  you  very  well  know,  the  entire 
school  has  come  to  respect  and  esteem  you,  myself  among 
the  rest." 

To  which  I  replied  that  I  was  not  aware  that  I  had 
merited  any  special  respect ;  that  from  principle  I  meant 
to  so  conduct  myself  as  to  command  at  least  an  ordi 
nary  degree  of  respect  from  all  my  acquaintances ;  and  I 
assured  her  that  my  severe  criticisms  upon  herself  were 
not  prompted  by  a  desire  to  wound  her  feelings  or  ren 
der  her  unhappy,  but  solely  because  she  possessed  attri 
butes  of  mind  which,  if  rightly  directed,  would  make  her 
a  loved  and  lovable  lady. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "if  I  am  in  so  ill  a  state,  you  cer 
tainly  ought  to  understand  the  remedy.  What  is  your 
prescription  ?" 

"  You  must  first  subdue  your  stubborn  will,  and  realize 
fully  that  other  girls  in  the  seminary  possess  equal  rights 
with  you  in  all  respects ;  that  birth  and  wealth  in  reality 
have  nothing  at  all  to  do  in  determining  the  status  of  a 
person  in  society,  and  that  there  is  but  one  standard  to 
measure  people  by,  which  is,  intelligence  and  moral  worth. 


46  AS  PASTA. 

You  must  love  to  do  good  and  hate  to  do  evil ;  and,  to 
understand  what  good  and  evil  are,  you  must  study  the 
Bible  attentively,  for  you  can  learn  it  nowhere  else.  And, 
so  far  as  the  fleeting  pleasures  of  this  life  are  concerned, 
you  must  bring  yourself  to  feel  and  realize  that  all  such 
is  vanity;  and,  with  your  flatterers  about  you,  and  the 
evil  influences  to  which  you  are  constantly  exposed,  I  can 
only  warn  you  against  them  in  the  language  of  the  old 
poet: 

"  See,  Vice,  preventing  every  wish,  appears 
To  lead  through  down-hill  paths  and  gay  parterres 
Where  Pleasure  reigns  ;  while  Virtue,  decent  maid, 
Retires  from  view  in  yon  sequester'd  shade. 
Craggy  and  steep  the  way  to  her  abodes ; 
Fatigue  and  Pain,  by  order  of  the  gods, 
Stern  sentry  keep.     But  if  nor  pain  nor  toil 
Can  check  the  generous  ardor  of  thy  soul, 
Exert  thy  powers,  nor  doubt  thy  labor's  meed. 
Conquest  and  joy  shall  crown  the  glorious  deed." 

She  sat  for  a  moment  in  silence.     At  last  she  spoke. 

"  You  reason  like  a  philosopher ;  and  I  confess  I  never 
before  received  so  severe  a  lesson ;  and  I  did  not  know  I 
was  so  bad  and  unlovable,  neither  was  I  aware  that  my 
acquaintances  thought  me  so.  I  supposed  that  in  order 
to  be  admired  I  must  be  gay  and  thoughtless,  and  that  to 
command  respect  I  must  assume  an  air  of  haughtiness ; 
but,  if  your  philosophy  is  correct,  it  teaches  directly  the 
reverse." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  it  is  true ;  and  you  will  yet  ac 
knowledge  it  to  me;  for  I  am  fully  convinced  that  you 
are  dissatisfied  with  your  course  of  life,  have  promised 
yourself  that,  if  you  could  obtain  aid  and  sympathy  from 
others,  you  would  amend  your  ways ;  and  I  assure  you 
I  will  aid  you  with  all  my  power.  You  shall  have  my 


ASP  A  SI  A.  47 

warmest  sympathy;  and  I  believe  I  do  but  express  the 
feelings  of  very  many  of  the  young  ladies  in  the  semi 
nary." 

To  which  she  replied,  "  You  surprise  me.  You  could 
not  have  read  my  thoughts  more  correctly  had  they  been 
recorded  in  a  book ;  I  thank  you  most  sincerely  for  this 
interview,  and  shall  ponder  upon  what  you  have  said, 
and  assure  you  I  take  it  kindly,  for  I  know  it  has  been 
spoken  in  the  spirit  of  love ;  I  beg  the  privilege  of  another 
interview  at  your  future  convenience." 

I  replied  that  I  should  be  pleased  to  see  her  at  my  room 
at  her  convenience.  By  this  time  the  girls  were  return 
ing  from  church,  she  retired  to  her  room,  and  I  put  up  a 
silent  prayer  to  Jesus  that  he  would  send  his  guardian 
angel  to  watch  over  her  and  shield  her  from  tempta 
tion,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  would  strengthen  her  resolu 
tions,  show  her  clearly  her  duty,  and  give  her  strength 
to  perform  it. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  in  this  my  first  conversation 
I  did  not  endeavor  to  impress  more  forcibly  upon  her  the 
absolute  necessity  of  repentance  of  sins  and  confession 
before  God  But  my  reason  was,  that,  knowing  as  I  did 
her  bitter  hostility  to  religion,  had  I  taken  that  course  at 
the  first  I  should  have  repelled  her,  and  probably  been 
unable  to  regain  her  confidence  ;  whereas,  as  subsequent 
events  have  proven,  by  the  wisdom  given  me  of  God,  I 
did  right ;  for,  without  detailing  subsequent  conversations 
(and  we  had  many,  and  very  happy  ones),  I  will  simply  add 
that  Rose  became  a  devoted  Christian,  and  that  through 
her  efforts  her  parents  were  both  converted.  She  married  a 
wealthy  merchant,  who  was  an  active  Christian;  and,  her 
parents  both  dying  at  about  the  same  time,  she  became 
sole  heiress  to  her  father's  estate,  Ihc  entire  amount  of 
which  she  appropriated  to  the  service  of  her  Lord  and 


48  ASP  AS  I  A. 

Saviour  Thus  she  became  the  almoner  of  God's  bounty, 
to  feed  the  hungry  and  clothe  the  naked  ;  and  in  after- 
years,  as  the  sequel  will  prove,  I  myself,  in  poverty,  was 
made  the  recipient  of  bounties  most  generously  bestowed, 
verifying  the  truth  of  Scripture,  "  Cast  thy  bread  upon 
the  waters,  and  thou  shalt  find  it  again  after  many  days. " 
Thus  the  few  crumbs  of  truth  that  I  was  permitted  to 
sow  in  her  heart  did  indeed,  by  the  grace  of  God,  ripen 
into  a  glorious  harvest. 


CHAPTER   Y. 

SPRING  came,  and  with  it  all  nature  awoke  from  the 
cold  sleep  of  winter.  The  beautiful  bluebirds  were  the 
early  messengers  from  a  southern  clime  to  announce  that 
spring-time  had  come.  Soon  following  them,  the  robin- 
redbreast  sent  up  his  notes  of  joy,  that  the  season  had 
permitted  the  return  of  himself  and  mate  to  the  happy 
home  he  had  enjoyed  the  past  season,  and  where  they 
reared  their  little  family  of  warblers. 

The  grass  grew  green  in  the  meadows.  The  herds 
that  had  been  confined  within  the  yards  or  stalls,  as 
within  prison-walls,  during  a  long  and  cold  winter,  were 
now  let  foose  in  the  pastures,  and,  by  awkward  antics, 
gave  expression  to  their  joy  at  being  free  again.  The 
orchards,  ornamental  trees,  and  forests  were  being  again 
clothed  with  luxuriant  foliage,  all  typical  of  the  spring 
time  of  life,  when  hope  is  buoyant,  the  affections  fervent, 
the  soul  alive  with  energy,  and  the  physical  system  full 
of  life  and  vigor. 

As  the  warm  weather  came  on,  I  began  to  count  the 
days  that  intervened  before  the  close  of  the  term  and  my 
return  home;  for  of  all  places  on  earth  there  was  to  me 
no  such  place  as  home, — "  the  dear  old  home."  And  now, 
in  after-years,  while  meditating  upon  my  childhood  days, 
with  vivid  recollections  home  scenes  cume  fresh  to  my 
uiind,  and  I  almost  wish  I  were  a  girl  again. 

5  (49) 


50  A  3  PA  SI  A. 

"  When  I  long  for  sainted  memories, 

Like  angel  troops  they  come, 
If  I  fold  my  hands  and  ponder 

On  the  dear  old  home  ; 
To  that  sweet  spot  forever, 

As  to  some  hallowed  dome, 
Life's  pilgrim  bends  his  vision 

To  his  dear  old  home. 

"A  father  sat,  how  proudly  then, 

By  that  dear  hearthstone's  ray, 
And  told  his  children  stories 

Of  his  early  manhood's  day  ; 
And  one  soft  eye  was  beaming, 

From  child  to  child  'twould  roam; 
Thus  a  mother  counts  her  treasures 

In  the  dear  old  home. 

"  The  birthday  gifts  and  festivals, 

The  blended  vesper  hymn, 
Some  dear  ones,  who  were  swelling  it, 

Are  with  the  seraphim. 
The  fond  'good-nights,'  at  bedtime, 

How  quiet  sleep  would  come 
And  fold  us  all  together, 

In  the  dear  old  home. 

"  Like  a  wreath  of  scented  flowerets, 

Close  intertwined  each  heart, 
But  time  and  change  in  concert 

Have  blown  the  wreath  apart ; 
But  sainted,  sainted  memories, 

Like  angels  ever  come, 
If  I  fold  my  arms  and  ponder 

On  the  dear  old  home." 

At  last  the  term  closed,  and  that  was  a  lively  day  at 
the  seminary.  Such  leave-takings !  for  while  all  longed 
to  be  freed  from  the  monotony  of  school  life,  and  for 


ASP  AST  A.  51 

home,  still  attachments  had  been  formed  which  caused 
deep  regrets  at  the  final  parting. 

My  father  came  for  me  in  his  carriage.  I  saw  him 
coming  up  the  road,  and  ran  to  meet  him.  I  could  not 
wait  until  he  should  reach  the  house ;  he  seemed  dearer 
to  me  than  ever. 

My  trunk  was  packed  all  ready  to  leave  on  his  arrival, 
so  that  he  was  detained  but  a  few  moments,  just  long 
enough  for  the  "  hired  man"  to  place  it  in  the  carriage  ; 
while  I  was  putting  on  my  things,  he  was  expressing  his 
gratitude  to  Miss  Haywood  for  her  kindnesses  to  his 
daughter,  assuring  her  of  his  appreciation  for  all  the 
special  favors  so  generously  granted,  and  that  he  hoped 
for  an  opportunity  to  reciprocate,  assuring  her  that,  if  life 
and  health  were  spared,  I  should  return  to  the  seminary 
at  the  commencement  of  the  fall  term,  and  complete  my 
education  under  her  care. 

We  were  soon  seated  in  the  carriage,  and  rapidly  jour 
neying  toward  home,  where  we  arrived  in  due  time,  and 
were  greeted  by  mother,  brothers,  and  sisters,  as  none 
but  a  loved  one  could  be ;  in  turn,  I  shed  tears  of  joy 
upon  meeting  the  dear  ones  at  home  once  more;  even 
old  Rover,  although  growing  aged  and  indolent,  mani 
fested  all  the  emotions  of  joy  the  poor  brute  was  capa 
ble  of. 

All  those  young  ladies  who  have  spent  their  first  years 
away  from  home,  and  at  a  boarding-school,  will  appreciate 
my  feelings  at  this  time. 

My  father  hastened  with  his  work,  that  we  might  all 
enjoy  the  promised  journey  and  spend  a  season  at  the 
sea-side ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  I  occupied  myself  by  as 
sisting  in  the  house-work,  visiting  at  sister  Kate's,  call 
ing  upon  and  entertaining  friends.  In  a  few  weeks  my 
father  gave  brother  William  such  advice  and  directions 


52  ASPASIA. 

concerning  the  management  of  affairs,  that  he  could  leave 
the  business  with  him,  and  we  prepared  for  the  journey. 

Elizabeth  determined  to  be  fashionable,  and  "  create  a 
sensation"  (as  she  laughingly  said),  "at  least  among  the 
baggage-men,  if  nowhere  else,"  and  persuaded  father  to 
purchase  a  Saratoga  trunk  of  the  largest  size  manufac 
tured,  and  was  anxious  I  should  also  have  one,  but  I  pre 
ferred  my  little  old  trunk.  Upon  packing,  however,  she 
soon  found  she  had  quarters  to  let,  for,  with  our  views  of 
economy,  one  such  was  sufficient  for  the  entire  family;  so 
it  was  finally  concluded  that  mother,  sister,  and  myself 
would  enter  into  joint  occupancy  of  "the  trunk,"  and 
father  could  take  a  satchel.  This  pleased  him,  because 
he  could  carry  it,  and  then  have  but  one  piece  of  baggage 
to  look  after,  and  that  one  so  enormously  large,  there 
was  no  more  danger  of  losing  it  than  there  would  be  of 
losing  an  ordinary-sized  story-and-a-half  dwelling. 

Mother  suggested  that  father  have  his  name  painted 
on  each  end ;  but  this  was  objected  to.  There  was 
an  old  sign  painted  in  large  Roman  letters,  in  black, 
upon  white  ground,  "G.  Horton."  This  sign  had  been 
lying  in  the  garret  for  many  years,  it  being  one  that 
my  father  had  on  his  store  years  previous.  William 
suggested  that  it  be  nailed  on  Elizabeth's  trunk.  This 
was  objected  to,  lest  some  burglar,  mistaking  it  for 
a  dry-goods  or  millinery  store,  might  possibly  break  in, 
and,  by  his  robberies,  seriously  embarrass  us.  It  was 
finally  concluded  to  place  a  card  on  each  end  with 
father's  name ;  and,  thus  equipped  and  furnished,  we 
started  on  our  summer  tour.  Upon  getting  "the  trunk" 
checked  at  the  depot,  the  agent,  who  was  well  ac 
quainted  with  father,  and  was,  withal,  a  genial,  kind- 
hearted,  and  obliging  gentleman,  looked  with  astonish 
ment  at  our  baggage ;  and  said  he,  "  Mr.  Horton,  we 


A  SPA  SI  A.        .  53 

shall  have  to  charge  you  two  dollars  extra  for  the  trunk." 
And  iu  vain  did  my  father  attempt  to  convince  him  that 
that  was  most  decidedly  against  public  policy;  that  there 
were  four  of  us,  and  only  one  trunk.  "  True,"  he  said, 
"  but  it  is  a  very  large  one,  and  I  would  handle  six  com 
mon-sized  trunks  in  preference  to  one  of  those  things." 
Father  paid  him  two  dollars  extra,  and  took  his  check,  and 
we  wrere  soon  off  for  Albany.  Nothing  of  note  occurred 
on  the  way.  The  cars  did  not  fly  the  track ;  there  were 
no  broken  rails  or  drunken  engineers ;  and,  I  think,  but  one 
young  man  was  killed  by  the  train  that  day,  which  was 
considered  by  the  train-men  of  little  importance.  "  He  was 
only  a  track  laborer,"  the  conductor  said.  This  expres 
sion  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  my  soul,  and  I  re 
peated  it,  "  Only  a  track  laborer."  But  was  he  not  a 
man  ?  Perhaps  he  had  a  mother,  wife,  or  children,  that 
were  the  sharers  of  his  daily  earnings,  and  who  would 
mourn  and  lament  his  death  and  their  irreparable  loss. 

Arriving  at  Albany,  father  handed  his  check  to  the 
omnibus  agent  in  the  cars,  and  designated  his  hotel ;  and, 
soon  after  being  shown  to  our  rooms,  a  porter  handed  a 
note  to  father,  which  he  found,  on  opening,  was  a  charge 
of  one  dollar  for  handling  extra  baggage.  He  was  truly 
indignant,  and  went  directly  to  the  office  to  explain,  and 
stated  that  there  were  four  of  us  and  but  one  trunk.  But 
the  clerk  could  not  afford  him  any  assistance,  and  he  paid 
it  and  returned  to  his  room.  By  this  time,  Elizabeth  was 
beginning  to  dislike  the  sensation  her  trunk  was  creating; 
though  but  little  was  said;  it  was  all  for  fashion.  Some 
people  seem  to  enjoy  disappointments,  useless  expense, 
and  great  annoyances,  if  it  is  in  the  cause  of  fashion  ;  but 
it  didn't  sit  well  upon  any  one  of  us. 

We  spent  a  few  days  very  pleasantly  in  Albany,  visit 
ing  friends  and  seeing  the  city,  and  took  the  cars  for 

.-,* 


54  A  SPA  SI  A. 

Montreal.  And  this  time,  to  avoid  the  annoyance,  father 
handed  the  porter  a  dollar  extra  to  put  the  trunk  on  board 
the  cars;  but,  when  he  came  to  procure  his  check,  he  had 
another  extra  baggage  bill  to  pay.  Were  it  not  that  father 
was  an  even-tempered,  philosophical  sort  of  a  man,  I  am 
sure  he  would  have  lost  his  patience  with  Elizabeth  for 
urging  its  purchase  ;  but  not  a  murmur  escaped  his  lips. 

Arriving  at  Montreal,  and  ever  after  on  the  journey, 
father  inquired  of  each  porter  and  baggage-man  who 
handled  "  the  trunk,"  "  How  much  charge  for  extra  bag 
gage  ?"  and  immediately  paid  their  price. 

In  due  time  we  left  Montreal  for  "  the  States,"  again 
by  rail,  and  on  our  way  were  so  unfortunate,  and  yet 
fortunate,  as  to  encounter  an  accident. 

My  father  always,  if  possible,  avoided  either  the  first 
or  i he  last  car  in  a  train  if  there  were  more  than  two;  for, 
he  said,  the  first  was  the  most  liable  to  an  accident  which 
might  happen  to  the  engine,  and  the  last  was  liable  to  be 
thrown  from  the  track  by  rapidly  turning  the  curves;  but 
when  we  arrived  at  the  depot  it  was  late,  and  we  took 
seats  in  the  first  car  we  reached,  which  was  the  rear  one 
in  the  train.  After  we  had  traveled  a  couple  of  hours 
or  so,  while  running  rapidly  on  a  down  grade,  following 
the  zigzag  course  of  a  mountain  brook,  and  while  swiftly 
rounding  a  curve,  the  last  car  (in  which  we  were  riding) 
was  whirled  off  the  track,  and  rolled  completely  over 
down  the  hill,  and  came  near  landing  us  all  in  the  brook. 
Such  a  jumbled-up  mess  as  we  were!  The  car  was  filled 
with  passengers,  and  in  an  instant,  as  it  were,  we  were 
hui'led  over  the  embankment,  and  rattled  against  the 
sides,  top,  and  bottom  (as  one  man  said),  "  like  cobs  in  a 
corn-sheller."  I  felt  a  good  deal  as  the  Irishman  did, 
who  was  accidentally  knocked  down.  Some  one  asked 
if  he  was  dead.  "No,  indade,"  said  he,  "I'm  not  dead, 
but  spacheless." 


AS  PAS  I  A.  55 

The  car  finally  landed  on  its  side.  The  train  was 
stopped  as  soon  as  possible,  and  ran  back  to  us,  the 
passengers  all  left  the  other  cars  in  haste,  to  render  those 
in  ours  assistance.  All  were  taken  or  helped  out  in  a 
few  moments.  Of  course  the  car  was  badly  broken,  and 
although  a  majority  of  the  passengers  escaped  in  a  miracu 
lous  manner  from  receiving  serious  injuries,  yet  many 
were  injured,  and  some,  it  was  feared,  fatally.  Thanks 
to  a  kind  Providence  (but  no  thanks  to  the  engineer  or 
conductor),  our  party  escaped  comparatively  uninjured. 
Mother  and  Elizabeth  sustained  slight  bruises  only.  But 
the  groans  of  those  who  were  seriously  hurt  were  indeed 
painful.  Yet,  amid  the  horrors  of  the  catastrophe,  there 
were  many  ludicrous  scenes ;  one  in  particular.  A  gen 
tleman,  apparently  about  fifty  3rears  of  age,  with  his  wife 
and  two  grandchildren,  occupied  the  two  seats  back  of 
me,  and  I  could  not  avoid  observing  their  movements  on 
the  journey ;  for  although  the  children  were  old  enough 
to  have  put  up  with  regular  meals,  yet  at  every  station 
the  woman  would  trot  her  husband  out  with  a  white 
glass  bottle  for  milk  and  a  handful  of  eatables  for  the 
darlings.  And  when  the  stations  were  frequent,  he  would 
object;  but  one  snappish  word,  and  her  sarcastic  look, 
was  sufficient:  he  went,  and  thus  revealed  the  fact  that 
he  had  surrendered  all  his  manhood  (if  he  ever  had 
any)  to  a  woman  wholly  void  of  culture  and  destitute 
of  grace. 

In  freeing  the  passengers  from  the  debris  that  was  piled 
over  and  about  them,  this  woman  was  taken  out,  consid 
erably  scared,  but  not  much  "hurt."  Her  first  inquiry 
was  for  "John"  (her  husband).  She  was  informed  IK; 
had  not  yet  been  found.  "Well,"  said  she,  "I  suppose 
lie's  dead,  poor  soul;  nobody  is  to  blame  but  he;  I  novel- 
should  have  come  but  for  him.  I  suppose  the  bottle 


56  A  SPA  SI  A. 

is  broke,  too ;  that's  one  my  mother  gave  me,  and  I  sot 
store  by  it."  Her  husband  seemed  first  in  her  mind, 
because  he  was  a  thing  of  service  to  her;  the  bottle 
next,  because  it  was  an  heirloom. 

The  wounded  were  quickly  put  on  board  the  train,  and 
taken  to  the  nearest  station  and  cared  for  in  a  manner  so 
well  understood  by  railroad  officials. 

It  is  really  surprising  to  see  how  the  apprehension  of 
heavy  damages  operates  to  develop  congeniality  and  sym 
pathetic  love.  Such  spontaneous  gushes  of  tender-heart 
edness  are  truly  affecting.  The  love  of  money,  or,  having 
it,  the  fear  of  losing,  goes  far  toward  smoothing  down 
the  rough  edges  of  a  character  otherwise  morose  and 
unapproachable ;  and  my  experience  teaches  me  that 
there  are  a  great  many  persons  of  this  character  in  every 
community.  None  but  motives  of  supreme  selfishness 
can  ever  draw  from  them  expressions  of  sympathy. 
Their  heart  is  like  an  iceberg,  and,  as  we  approach  them, 
an  icy  chilliness  comes  over  us.  And  what  a  relief  and 
pleasure  it  is  to  change  the  society  of  such  for  those 
whose  every  word  and  look  is  an  expression  of  sympathy 
and  love,  and,  whatever  the  circumstances  or  position 
in  life  of  the  suffering  ones,  their  hearts  are  ever  open  to 
permit  the  ready  exercise  of  tender  emotions,  which  at 
once  and  always  are  manifested  by  good  deeds ! 

As  soon  as  the  injured  passengers  were  discharged  from 
the  cars,  at  the  nearest  station  from  the  place  where  the 
accident  occurred,  the  train  again  started  on  its  trip,  and 
we  were  whirled  along  at  a  furious  rate  (yet  without  fur 
ther  accident)  to  the  end  of  our  journey,  arriving  at  our 

hotel    at   in   the   evening,  dusty   and   fatigued. 

Father  at  once  ordered  supper  of  sea  diet.  And  such  a 
supper!  Roast  mackerel,  baked  salmon,  clams,  whortle 
berries,  and  fruits  in  abundance;  and,  as  we  were  greatly 


ASP  AS  I  A.  5t 

fatigued  and  hungry  withal,  we  were  as  voracious  as  an 
army  of  bashiquas,  and  I  thought  I  never  tasted  any 
thing  half  so  rich ;  but,  after  spending  a  few  days  there, 
and  becoming  accustomed  to  this  diet,  I  found  it  like 
other  pleasures  or  blessings  of  life,  that  we  are  apt  to 
lose  our  appreciation  of  them  by  constant  enjoyment. 

We  spent  several  weeks  at  this  place,  and  the  most  of 
the  time  the  weather  was  delightful :  there  were  a  great 
many  visitors  at  this  sea-side  town,  and  we  formed  many 
agreeable  and  profitable  acquaintances.  We  occupied 
our  time  in  sea-bathing,  fishing,  strolling  over  the  hills, 
and  in  entertaining  and  being  entertained  by  guests  of  the 
various  hotels  and  a  few  citizens  of  the  town  with  whom 
we  formed  acquaintance. 

It  was  amusing  to  one  who  could  occupy  a  private  box 
as  I  did,  and,  with  a  quizzing-glass,  have  full  opportunity 
to  criticise  those  who  were  playing  upon  the  stage  of 
fashion,  to  note  the  different  temperaments,  dispositions, 
habits  of  thought,  rule  of  life,  judgment,  and  tastes  for 
dress. 

There  was  the  honest,  unassuming,  prudent  gentleman 
and  lady,  of  which  my  father  and  mother  were  fit  repre 
sentatives.  With  all  such  (and  there  were  many)  we  en 
joyed  ourselves  greatly.  They  were  uniformly  intelligent 
and  communicative,  and  conversation  with  them  was  both 
pleasant  and  profitable.  This  class  made  no  show,  and 
created  no  sensation  (as  it  is  usually  termed) :  still,  they 
commanded  and  received  great  respect. 

There  was  another  class,  who  were  originally  very 
poor,  but,  by  energy  and  a  favorable  turn  of  Fortune's 
wheel,  had  become  wealthy.  Many  such  were  affable 
and  unassuming;  but,  to  use  a  homely  expression,  the 
shoddy  would  stick  out,  in  the  mother  and  daughters  es 
pecially  ;  and  such  gewgaws  as  they  would  pile  on, 


58  A  SPAS  I  A. 

without  any  taste  or  judgment,  but  wholly  ignoring  all 
chaste  and  refined  rules  of  dress  by  the  piling  on  of  trink 
ets  !  One  would  suppose  that  the  height  of  their  ambition 
was  simply  to  outshine  some  one,  forgetting  that  it  is  the 
fixed  stars  which  shine  with  the  greatest  brilliancy  and 
whose  scintillations  are  the  most  observed.  Occasionally 
one  of  those  flirting  little  meteors  will  pass  over  the  glass 
of  the  astronomer;  but  it  does  not  attract  his  attention, 
nor  cause  him  to  withdraw  his  gaze  from  those  greater 
and  more  luminous  orbs. 

There  was  still  another  class  of  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
of  great  wealth,  who  inherited  fortunes,  and  have,  not 
withstanding  their  extravagances,  continued  to  increase 
those  fortunes.  These  were  generally  good-natured 
people,  quick  of  apprehension,  at  the  same  time  court 
eous  and  polite,  but  careful  not  to  admit  within  the  inner 
circle  of  their  acquaintances  any  but  those  who  were  rich 
in  ancestral  estates.  These  were  the  remnants  of  the  old- 
school  aristocracy,  which,  I  am  pleased  to  know,  is  fast 
dying  out  in  this  country. 

There  was  still  another  class  of  wealthy  people,  who 
were  ignorant  and  selfish ;  who  never  gave  to  chanty, 
never  paid  the  price  asked  for  any  article,  and,  unless 
they  could  hire  a  carriage  for  less  than  others  cheerfully 
paid,  would  go  to  the  beach  on  foot.  They  seemed  will 
ing  to  suffer  any  amount  of  inconvenience  to  gratify  their 
avarice.  They  all,  parents  and  children,  seemed  to  have 
been  most  thoroughly  educated  in  this  school.  They 
were  despised  and  shunned  by  all  except  congenial 
spirits,  and  even  between  them  there  was  really  no  re 
spect. 

Then  there  was  the  flirt  and  her  fop,  come  down  from 
the  city  to  view  the  countraw.  It  was  impossible  to 
judge  correctly  of  the  pecuniary  standing  of  this  class, 


ASPASIA.  59 

but,  from  their  conversation  and  manners,  I  judged  they 
were  poor,  and  always  had  been,  and  were  sure  to  re 
main  so,  for,  without  exception,  they  were  illiterate  and 
shallow-brained.  The  simple  fact  that  they  were  poor 
in  this  world's  goods  was  not  to  their  discredit;  far  from 
that;  but  being  so,  and  attempting  to  palm  themselves 
off  upon  strangers  as  persons  of  wealth  and  character, 
is  like  dealing  in  counterfeit  three-cent  currency:  if  it 
is  discovered  on  your  hands,  the  loss  is  so  trifling  that 
the  transaction  passes  without  a  thought  or  reflection.  So 
with  this  last  class  of  persons  referred  to.  They  simply 
attract  the  same  attention  that  counterfeit  currency  does, 
and  they  are  as  readily  detected  and  as  readily  pass  out 
of  use. 

Then  there  was  the  morose  old  bachelor,  wrapped  up 
in  his  selfishness.  He  rode  every  day  alone  in  the  best 
carriage  the  livery  afforded ;  seemed  to  spend  money 
freely,  and,  in  his  way,  I  have  no  doubt,  enjoyed  life. 
But  it's  an  odd  way.  With  him  society  was  nothing  only 
so  far  as  it  contributed  to  his  selfish  enjoyments.  Such 
men  remind  me  of  an  occasional  tree,  standing  solitary 
and  alone  in  the  midst  of  one  of  the  vast  prairies  of  the 
West ;  all  about  and  beneath  it  was  dry  and  barren,  yet 
there  it  stood,  neglected  and  alone.  Contrast  this  with 
the  trees  in  the  forest,  nursery,  or  orchard  :  clustering  to 
gether,  they  spread  their  luxuriant  foliage  to  catch  the 
dews  of  the  night,  pouring  the  same  upon  the  tender 
herb  beneath  and  around  them,  and,  by  their  life-giving 
principles,  the  tender  plants  spring  up  all  about  them,  and 
under  their  shade,  either  to  be  transplanted  in  some  beau 
tiful  garden,  or  take  the  place  of  the  original  tree  when  it 
decays. 

Then  there  were  gentlemen  and  ladies  who  belonged  to 
the  genuine  aristocracy  ;  I  mean  an  aristocracy  of  worth, 


60  -4  SPA  SI  A. 

where  the  goddess  of  Virtue  reigns ;  whose  hearts  are 
full  of  love ;  who  are  religious  from  principle,  and  are 
in  all  things  what  they  profess.  True,  there  are  men  and 
women  of  this  class  of  different  temperaments ;  some  so 
sanguine,  and  a  little  nervous  withal,  that  they  are  very 
frequently  misjudged  by  those  of  an  opposite  tempera 
ment,  and  vice  versa.  Yet  carefully  keep  watch  of  them 
all,  and  we  discover  that,  without  ostentation,  they  do  and 
perform  those  duties  which  none  but  the  Christian  does. 
We  hear  them  in  their  closets,  "  0  Lord,  subdue  my  stub 
born  will,"  "  Increase  my  faith,"  "  Heal  all  my  backslid- 
ings,  and  forgive  all  my  sins."  And,  even  though  at  the 
sea-side  for  pleasure,  we  find  them  at  the  weekly  prayer- 
meetings  of  the  village  church,  encouraging  the  few  faith 
ful  ones  in  their  Christian  duties,  both  by  precept  and  ex 
ample. 

Such,  and  even  a  still  greater  variety  of  characters,  did 
we  find  and  meet  with  while  at  the  sea-side ;  and  the  "  les 
sons  in  life"  which  I  read  then  and  there  have  been  of 
great  service  to  me. 

I  cannot  close  my  notes  upon  this  sea-side  visit  without 
detailing  a  conversation  I  had  with  a  gentleman  and  two 
ladies,  who  called  at  our  rooms  the  last  Wednesday  even 
ing  we  were  there.  All  had  gone  to  the  prayer-meeting 
but  myself.  Feeling  slightly  ill,  I  remained  at  home ;  and 
Mr.  Goodspeed  and  the  two  Miss  Graves  called  to  spend 
the  evening.  They  were  well-educated  people,  affable  and 
kind-hearted,  but  were  mere  moralists ;  did  not  believe  in 
the  divinity  of  Christ. 

On  inquiring  for  my  sister  Elizabeth,  and  being  in 
formed  that  she,  with  my  parents,  had  gone  to  the 
prayer -meeting,  and  that  I  was  prevented  only  by  slight 
indisposition,  Mr.  Goodspeed  remarked,  "I  had  formed 
an  exalted  opinion  of  yourself  and  sister,  and  did  not 


A  SPA  SI  A.  61 

suppose  you  were  so  foolish  as  to  deprive  yourselves  of 
the  pleasures  of  life  by  doing-  penance." 

"Sir,"  said  I,  "although  I  think  I  enjoy  life  as  heartily 
as  any  person,  still  my  happiest  moments  are  those  when 
brought  nearest  my  Saviour ;  and  frequently  I  get  strayed 
so  far  away  from  him,  while  running  after  the  glittering 
toys  of  earth,  that  I  need  to  be  brought  into  close  fellow 
ship  with  Christians,  and  feel  the  influence  of  their  hearts 
(as  they  are  manifested  in  love,  faith,  and  repentance) 
upon  my  own,  to  quicken  me  to  duty,  and  cause  me  to 
anchor  still  stronger  than  ever  to  Jesus,  the  rock  of  my 
salvation." 

"Well,"  said  one  of  the  ladies,  "since  your  parents  and 
sister  are  at  the  prayer-meeting,  and  religion  seems  to  be 
a  favorite  theme  with  you,  we  should  be  pleased  to  hear 
your  views  upon  two  or  three  points  that  we  think  call 
for  a  little  explanation  : 

"  First.  How  can  God  consistently  hold  the  heathen 
responsible  for  not  serving  him,  without  ever  providing 
them  with  a  written  religion  and  informing  them  of 
Jesus  Christ,  their  Saviour,  or,  at  least,  whom  you  or 
thodox  call  a  Saviour  ? 

"  Second.  Where  is  the  fairness  in  God's  withholding 
his  Saviour  from  men  for  four  thousand  years,  and  still 
sending  them  by  millions  down  to  hell  (as  you  profess  to 
believe)  for  being  sinners? 

"  Third.  If  God  is  all-powerful,  how  does  it  happen 
that  the  devil  has  so  many  more  devotees  than  God  ?  for 
certainly,  if  the  world  comes  to  an  end  so  soon  as  is 
preached,  according  to  your  theory  the  devil  will  have 
much  the  largest  company,  and  the  all-powerful  and 
strongest  ought  to  meet  with  the  greatest  success. 

"  I  have  asked  these  questions  often,  and  have  never 
yet  received  a  satisfactory  answer." 

6 


62  A  SPAS  I  A. 

I  replied  that  I  felt  a  little  delicacy  at  attempting  to 
answer  questions  covering  such  broad  grounds  and  involv 
ing  theological  truths  of  so  momentous  importance ;  yet, 
presuming  they  would  not  expect  a  full  discussion  of  all 
the  points  involved,  I  would  proceed  to  answer  in  as 
concise  a  manner  as  possible. 

"And,  first,  God  was  under  no  obligation  to  man,  in  any 
sense  of  that  term.  He  first  created  him  perfectly  pure 
and  holy  as  one  of  the  angels  before  his  throne.  At  the 
game  time  he  gave  him,  as  one  of  the  necessary  elements 
of  a  moral  being,  free  agency,  or  the  exercise  of  his  own 
will.  He  placed  him  upon  this  earthly  paradise,  for  the 
whole  earth  before  the  fall  was  a  paradise,  when  fitted  for 
the  abode  of  man,  God's  representative  on  earth  ('  God 
looked  upon  it  and  saw  that  it  was  good'),  and  sur 
rounded  him  with  everything  that  was  beautiful  and  cal 
culated  to  stimulate  the  holiest  emotions  of  his  soul. 
But,  alas !  he  sinned,  and  the  earth  was  cursed  on  ac 
count  of  that  sin ;  and  as  sin  had  come  into  the  world, 
so  came  death ;  for  God  had  forewarned  the  man  that  if 
he  sinned  against  him  he  should  surely  die, — having  es 
pecial  reference  to  the  death  of  the  body,  from  which 
there  can  be  no  escape  ;  for  God,  who  is  the  author  of  all 
law,  had  established  a  law  that  a  single  transgression  on 
the  part  of  Adam,  man's  first  representative  on  earth, 
should  render  the  physical  system  mortal  and  subject  to 
disease,  pain,  and  death ;  and  the  transgression  also 
brought  upon  the  soul  of  the  transgressor  eternal  death. 
In  the  economy  of  God's  grace,  such  effects  of  the  fall 
could  not  be  entailed  upon  men  of  succeeding  ages. 
Hence  it  was  early  said,  '  The  wicked  shall  die  for  his 
own  sins;'  'The  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die.'  In  view 
of  this,  God  at  once  directed  Adam  to  seek  repentance 
for  his  sin,  and  to  offer  a  sacrifice  typical  of  the  great  sac- 


ASP  AS  I  A.  63 

rifice  prepared  for  men  after  they  had  had  sufficient  time 
to  test  their  own  vain  philosophies  and  theories.  So  here, 
at  the  very  outset,  God  established  his  religion,  and  made 
the  first  man,  a  converted  sinner,  a  preacher ;  and  he  had 
many  eminent  preachers  all  the  way  down  to  the  time  of 
the  flood.  Everything  was  done  that  could  consistently 
be,  by  God,  to  bring  men  to  love  and  obey  him.  But 
no:  they  chose  their  own  wicked  ways;  and  even  the  de 
scendants  of  Noah,  immediately  after  leaving  the  ark, 
having  been  preserved  from  destruction  in  that  miracu 
lous  manner,  became  great  idolaters,  and  that,  too,  while 
their  father  was  yet  a  preacher  of  righteousness  and  men 
were  but  few  upon  the  earth.  God  then  commenced  send 
ing  his  prophets  as  preachers,  as  he  does  nowadays,  among 
the  people  to  preach  to  them ;  and  the  burden  of  all  the 
preaching,  from  Adam  to  Christ,  was  repentance  and 
faith  on  the  Lord  God,  who  was  to  come  and  offer  him 
self  a  sacrifice  to  answer  the  demands  of  justice,  in  order 
that  God  might  pardon  the  sinner.  And  the  people  in 
all  those  ages  were  enjoined  to  offer  a  sin-offering  of  the 
blood  of  animals,  as  typical  of  Christ's  great  sacrifice  that 
was  to  be  made.  The  only  difference  between  the  doc 
trines  taught  then  and  since  Jesus  came,  are,  that  since 
Christ  died,  repentance  for  sins  and  faith  in  a  crucified 
and  risen  Saviour  are  preached  now.  Then,  where  is 
the  injustice  of  God  ?  He  had  done  all  he  could,  con 
sistent  with  man's  free  agency,  to  flood  the  world  with 
the  saving  light  of  truth,  but  men  were  too  obdurate  to 
receive  it,  and  hence  the  condemnation  has  been  the  por 
tion  of  a  vast  majority  of  all  who  have  lived  on  the 
earth, — not  because  God  desired  it,  or  withheld  any 
means  or  influences  which  he  could  consistently  bestow 
or  bring  to  bear  upon  men,  but  wholly  of  their  own 
choosing.  From  Adam  to  Noah,  and  from  Noah  to  Moses, 


64  A  SPA  SI  A. 

and  from  Moses  to  Christ,  in  all  ages,  men  of  superior 
talents,  and  eminent  for  their  piety,  of  their  own  choice 
became  preachers  of  righteousness  and  missionaries  among 
the  different  nations ;  and  we  find  these  men  were  not  con 
fined  to  any  one  tribe  or  nation.  For  instance,  we  find 
Job,  of  the  land  of  Uz,  one  of  God's  most  perfect  ser 
vants,  a  man  of  great  wealth  and  commanding  position, 
so  wealthy,  so  noble,  and  so  devoted  to  God,  that  God 
himself  said  of  him  that  there  was  none  like  him  on  the- 
face  of  the  whole  earth.  And  from  the  fact  that  so  re 
nowned  and  wealthy  a  man  as  Job  was  a  servant  of  God, 
we  may  presume  there  were  many  thousands  of  his  people 
who  were  also  righteous  before  God.  Also  the  visit  of 
the  three  Edomite  princes,  friends  of  Job,  to  condole  \vith 
him  in  his  deep  affliction,  and  the  language  used  by  them 
makes  it  evident  that  they  were  reared  under  religious 
influences  ;  and  from  the  high  character,  standing,  and 
great  wealth  of  Job,  we  are  led  to  the  conclusion  that  his 
friends  were  of  royal  blood;  therefore,  religiously,  as  well 
as  politically,  they  were  representative  men  of  the  nation. 

"Again,  Melchizedek,  one  of  the  ancient  kings,  cotem- 
porary  with  Abraham,  yet,  without  doubt,  possessing 
greater  wealth  and  influence,  was  also  a  priest  of  God,  as 
well  as  a  king  of  great  power  and  influence.  Hence  I 
conclude  that  his  subjects  must  have  been  religious. 

"Again,  as  we  peruse  the  pages  of  ancient  history, 
we  are  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  Plato  and  very 
many  of  those  old  sages  lived  as  near  to  God  as  the 
dim  light  of  nature  would  guide  them,  and  that  Soc 
rates  died  a  martyr  to  the  eternal  principles  of  virtue 
and  religion. 

"And  so  soon  as  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  the  vision,  had 
removed  the  bigotry  from  the  mind  of  the  Apostle  Peter, 
he  made  the  astounding  announcement  '  that  in  every 


A  SPA  SI  A.  65 

nation  he  that  foaroth  God  and  worketh  righteousness  is 
accepted  with  him ;'  and  this  is  in  harmony  with  the  dec 
laration  that '  the  heathen  are  without  excuse.' 

"  In  answer  to  your  third  interrogatory,  although  it 
may  be  true  that  more  souls  have  perished  than  have 
been  saved,  this  will  not  be  the  final  result;  for  '  the  king 
doms  of  this  world  shall  become  the  kingdoms  of  our 
Lord  and  of  his  Christ,  and  he  shall  reign  for  ever  and 
ever ;'  and  at  the  announcement  the  elders  before  the 
throne  of  God  'fell  upon  their  faces,  saying,  We  give 
thee  thanks,  O  Lord  God  Almighty,  which  art,  and  wast, 
and  art  to  come,  because  thou  hast  taken  to  thee  thy 
great  power,  and  hast  reigned.'  And  it  is  added  by  the 

revelator,  '  And  the  nations  were  angry, and 

shouldest  destroy  them  which  destroy  the  earth.'  By 
this  latter  clause  I  understand  that,  at  the  commencement 
of  Christ's  millennial  reign,  those  nations  and  peoples  who 
have  persisted  in  opposing  the  religion  of  Jesus  will  be 
angry  at  the  rapid  success  of  Christianity,  and  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  will  destroy  the  influences  of  Satan  and  his 
spirits  who  destroy  the  earth  ;  for  sin  not  only  destroys 
the  soul,  but  also  the  earth,  for  before  sin  entered  into 
the  world  the  earth  brought  forth  of  its  own  seed  every 
thing  that  was  good,  and  only  good. 

"  And  as  to  the  world  coming  to  an  end  soon,  I  am 
aware  that  many  have  preached  that  the  '  end  of  all 
things  is  at  hand.'  And  so  it  is  with  many  a  person  and 
people,  as  it  was  with  the  Jewish  nation  at  the  time  those 
memorable  words  were  uttered.  But  it  is  revealed  to  us 
that  before  the  end  of  the  world  Christ  shall  reign  on 
earth  a  thoiisai  (1  years.  By  this  we  are  not  to  under 
stand  ten  hundred  of  our  years;  for  'a  thousand  years 
is  with  the  Lord  as  one  day,  and  one  day  as  a  thousand 
years.'  And,  in  the  fulfillment  of  prophecy,  this  is  the  in- 


G6  ASP  AS  I  A. 

variable  rule  for  measuring  God's  time.  So  it  was  in  the 
creation.  Hence  I  believe  that  Christ  is  to  reign  supreme 
in  the  hearts  of  men  on  earth  during  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  thousand  of  our  years;  and,  owing  to  this 
peaceful  and  happy  condition  of  society  throughout  the 
world,  deaths  by  disease  will  be  less  frequent,  and  never 
occur  by  violence.  Consequently,  the  inhabitants  of  earth 
will  be  multiplied  to  thousands  of  millions,  until  the  mul 
titudes  who  shall  worship  Jesus  shall  be  so  great  that  no 
man  nor  angel  can  number  them.  And  thus,  at  the  day 
of  judgment,  those  who  shall  go  away  with  Satan  to  ever 
lasting  punishment  shall  be  as  a  drop  of  water  to  an 
ocean,  when  compared  with  those  who  shall  partake  of 
Christ's  kingdom  and  reign  as  kings  and  priests  with 
him  forever  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  lady  who  propounded  the  interroga 
tories,  "your  answers  and  explanations  are  exceedingly 
interesting,  and  are  new  to  us ;  and  I  confess  that  never 
before  have  these  points  been  satisfactorily  explained,  and 
we  cannot  gainsay  your  arguments." 

As  the  evening  was  far  spent,  they  departed,  and  soon 
after  my  parents  and  sister  returned  from  the  meeting, 
and  after  our  evening  oblation  we  all  retired  for  the 
night. 

The  next  day  we  were  taking  leave  of  friends  and  pack 
ing  "the  trunk,"  preparatory  for  our  departure  for  home, 
whither  we  reached  that  same  week. 

Thus  ended  our  sea-side  visit;  and  it  was  not  without 
its  beneficial  effects  upon  our  physical  health ;  and  we 
trust  that  we  gained  in  knowledge  and  in  religious 
growth,  and  that  we  were  able  also  to  impart  blessings 
to  others. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"How  swiftly  glide  life's  transient  scenes  away  ! 
Like  vernal  leaves,  men  flourish  and  decay. 
Thus  sung,  in  days  of  yore,  the  Chian  bard; 
This  maxim  all  have  heard,  but  none  regard. 
None  keep  in  mind  this  solitary  truth, 
Hope  still  survives,  that  flatters  us  in  youth. 
What  fruitless  schemes  amuse  our  blooming  years ! 
The  man  in  health  nor  age  nor  sickness  fears; 
Nay,  youth's  and  life's  contracted  space  forgot, 
Scarce  thinks  that  death  will  ever  be  his  lot. 
But  thou  thy  mind's  fair  bias  still  obey, 
Nor  from  the  paths  of  virtue  ever  stray." 

SOON  after  reaching  home  from  my  sea-side  visit,  I 
commenced  preparations  for  my  return  to  the  seminary. 

I  entered  at  the  commencement  of  the  fall  term  ;  and 
many  were  the  happy  greetings  as  the  young  ladies  as 
sembled  in  the  large  hall  of  the  building  on  that  opening 
day. 

One  of  the  first  to  greet  me  on  my  return  was  Rose 
Blackwell ;  and  I  saw  at  a  glance  there  had  been  a  radical 
change  in  her,  and  it  was  so  patent  as  to  be  the  subject 
of  general  remark. 

During  this  my  second  year  in  the  seminary  I  visited 
in  the  neighborhood  but  little,  devoting  myself  assidu 
ously  to  my  studies.  Nothing  of  special  interest  tran 
spired,  and  at  the  close  of  the  spring  term  I  again  returned 
home, — but,  alas !  not  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  home,  as 
formerly. 

My  mother  (God  bless  her  memory !)  was  taken  ill 


68  A  SPA  SI  A. 

with  a  bilious  attack  just  before  I  reached  home.  Dr. 
Woodman  was  called,  and,  on  seeing  her,  "  thought  he 
would  be  able  to  break  up  the  fever,"  and  "that  she 
would  soon  be  about  again."  But  it  was  not  so.  The 
disease  had  gotten  fast  hold  of  her,  and,  having  a  strong 
constitution,  all  the  energies  of  her  system  volunteered 
their  aid  in  endeavoring  to  throw  off  the  disease,  and 
thus  the  fever  increased ;  and,  when  I  arrived  at  home, 
she  was  so  ill  that  she  was  obliged  to  have  watchers  by 
her  bedside  constantly. 

I  had  been  at  home  but  a  few  days  when  the  doctor 
informed  my  father  that  he  feared  mother  would  not  re 
cover.  It  fell  like  the  shock  of  an  earthquake  upon  my 
father.  For  thirty-one  years  had  my  parents  lived  together 
most  happily,  and  their  souls  were  knit  together  as  the 
soul  of  one.  They  loved  each  other  with  a  love  as  endur 
ing  as  life;  and  their  children  loved  them  quite  as  ardently. 

As  soon  as  the  doctor  left,  father  called  together  all  the 
family,  consisting  of  brother  William,  Kate,  Elizabeth,  and 
myself,  and  informed  us  of  the  sad  intelligence.  And,  oh, 
what  sadness  came  over  us!  And,  amid  our  sobs  and  tears, 
we  knelt,  and  father  prayed  most  fervently  that,  if  it  were 
possible,  this  cup  of  affliction  might  pass  from  us ;  never 
theless,  if  it  was  God's  will  that  our  dear  mother  should 
be  taken  from  us,  we  might  have  grace  to  bear  up  under 
the  great  affliction.  After  drying  our  tears,  that  we  might 
not  needlessly  excite  mother,  we  all  repaired  to  her  room 
and  gathered  about  her  bed.  She  understood  the  mean 
ing  of  it  perfectly ;  and,  taking  father's  hand,  she  said, 
"  My  dear  husband  and  children,  you  think  I  am  about  to 
die :  I  am  also  aware  that  I  have  but  a  few  days  at  the 
longest,  and  perhaps  a  few  hours,  to  live  with  you  here. 
But,  although  my  body  will  die,  and  you  will  bury  it  out 
of  your  sight,  my  soul  will  put  on  newness  of  life. 


AS  PAS  I  A.  69 

"  Oh,  my  dear  husband  and  children,  although  it  5s  try 
ing  for  us  to  part  as  we  are  about  to,  yet  how  glorious  to 
know  that  we  are  all  Christians ;  that  we  are  to  meet 
again  in  that  bright  world  beyond  the  flood,  where  Jesus 
is  ;  that  we  shall  all  be  permitted  to  join  in  praising  our 
Redeemer  forever ;  there  shall  be  no  sin,  sickness,  sor 
row,  or  death  !  Methinks  I  hear  the  angels  singing  for 
joy  that  I  am  so  soon  to  be  welcomed  into  that  blissful 
abode. 

'"I  would  not  live  alway,  I  ask  not  to  stay 

Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dark  o'er  the  way.'  " 

My  mother  seemed  perfectly  calm  during  all  this  time, 
while  we  were  all  overwhelmed  with  grief.  She  re 
quested  father  to  pray  that  we  might  all  be  strengthened 
to  endure  the  trial,  and  that  Jesus  would  manifest  him 
self  especially  to  her,  and  that  he  would  go  down  into 
the  dark  waters  with  her,  and  bear  her  safely  above 
them,  and  land  her  on  the  shores  of  that  beautiful  coun 
try  that  needs  neither  the  light  of  the  sun  nor  of  the 
moon  ;  "  for  the  glory  of  God  will  lighten  it,  and  the 
Lamb  is  the  light  thereof." 

Word  was  sent  that  day  by  post  to  John  and  James, 
and  they  arrived  the  next  day ;  and  there  was  not  a  mo 
ment  that  some  of  us  were  not  by  our  dear  mother's  bed 
side  ;  and,  oh,  such  joy  as  was  manifested  in  her  every 
look  and  word !  For,  while  it  pained  her  to  leave  her 
loved  ones  behind,  still,  she  longed  to  be  with  her  Sa 
viour.  Then  it  was  that  I  realized  the  force  of  those 
words,  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let 
my  last  end  be  like  his." 

Mr.  Shaw  spent  nearly  all  the  time  at  our  house  during 
the  last  few  days  of  mother's  sickness.  She  died  on  Sat 
urday  morning.  Many  of  the  neighbors  were  in  and 


70  ASP  AS  I  A. 

about  the  house  at  the  time ;  and,  oh,  what  floods  of  grief 
were  there  poured  forth ! 

Soon  after  her  death,  Deacon  Jones  requested  of  father 
that  the  corpse  might  be  taken  to  the  church  for  the  fu 
neral  services  on  the  Sabbath  ;  for  the  whole  towns 
people  would  feel  her  loss  deeply,  and  would  wish  to  at 
tend  the  funeral  and  take  the  last  look  of  one  so  highly 
respected  and  loved. 

To  this  father  consented ;  and  Mr.  Shaw  preached  the 
funeral  sermon,  based  upon  the  following  texts  of  Scrip 
ture: 

"  Behold,  he  taketh  away.  Who  can  hinder  him  ?  who 
will  say  unto  him,  What  doest  thou  ?"  "  If  a  man  die, 
shall  he  live  again  ?" 

I  will  not  undertake  to  give  a  synopsis  of  the  discourse ; 
for  I  was  so  filled  with  grief  that  I  could  remember  but 
portions  of  it. 

Upon  returning  home  that  day,  after  we  had  laid  the 
body  of  our  dear  mother  in  the  grave  and  buried  it  out 
of  sight  forever,  we  felt  lonely  and  sad,  and  we  all  gathered 
about  our  father,  and  said  to  him,  "Now  our  dear  mother 
has  gone  to  heaven,  and  there  is  none  to  divide  with  you 
your  children's  love,  and  we  now  pledge  you  our  siricerest 
affection,  doubly  increased  for  you,  our  dear  father  and 
only  parent."  And  we  all  fell  upon  his  neck  and  kissed  him. 

During  the  summer  which  followed,  the  superintendence 
of  the  affairs  of  the  house  devolved  upon  sister  Elizabeth 
and  myself ;  and  at  the  commencement  of  the  fall  term 
I  again  entered  the  seminary.  This  being  my  last  year, 
I  applied  myself  to  my  studies,  if  possible,  with  greater 
diligence  than  previously ;  and  the  death  of  my  dear 
mother  rendered  me  lonely,  and  at  times  given  to  melan 
choly,  which  was  increased  in  consequence  of  the  con 
stant  tax  upon  my  mental  faculties. 


A  SPA  SI  A.  71 

Miss  Hay  wood,  observing  this,  took  the  very  wise  pre 
caution  to  divert  my  mind  as  much  as  possible,  and  in 
sisted  that  I  should  cultivate  the  mirthful  element  of  my 
nature,  and  thus  counteract  the  deleterious  effects  of  my 
deep  affliction  and  close  application  to  books;  for  which 
I  have  often  felt  grateful,  for  I  am  persuaded  that  had  I 
continued  in  the  same  frame  of  mind  long  in  which  I 
wan  when  I  entered  upon  that  term,  I  should  have  early 
followed  my  mother  to  the  spirit-world. 

A  short  time  after  the  commencement,  I  received  a 
letter  from  Rose  Blackwell,  conveying  the  very  pleasing 
intelligence  that  she  was  about  to  be  married,  and,  conse 
quently,  should  not  return  to  the  seminary  as  she  ex 
pected,  also  sending  a  very  polite  invitation  to  me  to 
attend  her  wedding.  I  at  once  wrote  my  father  to  learn 
his  wish  concerning  it,  and  received  his  hearty  consent. 

I  then  wrote  to  Hose  that,  by  and  with  the  consent  of 
my  father,  and  most  happily  to  myself,  I  accepted  her  in 
vitation,  and  should  leave  for  Boston  on  the  morning  of 
the  day  previous  to  the  wedding.  At  the  same  time,  I 
informed  her  of  my  mother's  death. 

At  the  appointed  time  I  took  the  morning  train  for 
Boston  to  attend  the  wedding,  arriving  there  at  four 
o'clock  P.M.  Was  met  at  the  depot  by  Rose  in  her 
father's  splendid  carriage,  and  we  were  driven  to  her 
father's  house,  where  I  was  as  warmly  welcomed  as 
though  I  were  one  of  their  own  children ;  and  when 
Rose  introduced  me  to  her  mother  as  her  dear  friend 
Miss  Ilorton,  said  Mrs.  Blackwell,  "Pardon  me,  Miss 
Horton ;  please  allow  me  to  call  you  by  your  Christian 
name,  Aspasia;  for  husband  and  myself  could  not  love 
you  more  tenderly  were  you  our  own  dear  child,  for  your 
great  kindness  '<>  Hose,  and  the  immense  good  you  have 
done  us  through  your  influence  upon  her." 


72  A  SPAS  I  A. 

Of  course  I  consented,  and  remarked  that,  if  I  had 
been  the  humble  instrument  of  good  to  them,  she  must 
give  God  the  glory,  it  was  all  his ;  and  I  thanked  her 
kindly  for  her  generous  expressions  of  love,  assuring 
her  that  it  was  fully  reciprocated.  I  also  said  that  my 
state  of  mind  had  been  such,  owing  to  close  attention  to 
my  studies,  and  the  deep  affliction  I  was  called  to  endure, 
that  I  felt  as  though  I  needed  a  change  for  a  day  or  t\vo 
at  least ;  but,  after  all,  I  should  not  have  accepted  a  like 
invitation  from  any  other  friend.  To  this  she  replied 
that  Rose  had  given  her  the  painful  news  of  my 
mother's  death,  and  that,  while  it  was  sad  to  think  of,  and 
an  irreparable  loss,  still  we  should  receive  it  as  an  admo 
nition,  "Be  ye  also  ready." 

Soon  Rose  and  I  were  left  by  ourselves  in  the  draw 
ing-room,  and  said  I,  "Rose,  now  tell  me  all  about  the 
gentleman  you  are  to  marry,  who  and  what  he  is,  and 
how  you  happen  to  be  married  just  now." 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "last  summer  I  went  with  my  parents 
to  the  sea-side  to  spend  the  season.  I  met  there  very 
many  of  my  former  gay  companions,  and  they  endeavored 
to  lead  me  off  into  all  sorts  of  frivolities ;  but,  seeing  I 
was  not  thus  inclined,  they  abandoned  me  wholly,  and  for 
several  days  my  only  society  (and  it  was  that  which  I 
especially  desired)  was  that  of  my  parents.  They  felt 
very  unpleasantly  about  it ;  but  I  remarked  that  it  was 
only  for  a  short  season,  and  the  associations  of  such  were 
really  of  no  practical  benefit  to  any  one. 

"  There  was  a  gentleman  stopping  at  the  same  hotel 
with  us,  of  courteous  bearing,  apparentl}7  a  man  of  wealth 
and  refinement,  and  very  fine-looking  also,  yet  he  never 
seemed  to  seek  or  relish  the  society  of  the  gay  and  thought 
less.  My  father  formed  his  acquaintance  in  a  political  dis 
cussion,  which  was  participated  in  by  several,  and  father 


A  SPA  SI  A.  73 

was  so  favorably  impressed  with  him  that  he  invited  him. 
to  call  on  us,  which  he  did  on  the  next  day.  At  his  first 
visit,  we  were  all  pleased  with  his  appearance;  as  he 
left,  I  ventured  to  accompany  him  to  the  door,  and  gave 
him  a  polite  invitation  to  repeat  his  visit,  and  to  come 
as  frequently  as  agreeable  to  himself,  and  that,  too, 
without  the  least  formality.  And  he  availed  himself  of 
my  invitation  to  the  fullest  extent;  for  he  called  morning, 
noon,  and  evening,  at  any  and  all  times  in  the  day.  We 
walked  together  and  rode  together,  and  both  say  we  never 
enjoyed  ourselves  so  well  as  then.  The  result  was,  he 
asked  me  to  marry  him ;  and,  as  I  had  anticipated  him, 
and  obtained  consent  of  my  parents  in  advance,  I  replied 
at  once,  and  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  that  I  would, 
with  all  my  heart. 

"  Now  as  to  who  and  what  he  is.  He  is  George  Shep 
herd,  a  wholesale  dry-goods  merchant  on  Milk  Street, 

in  this  city,  and  is  a  deacon  in  the Church,  and, 

although  young  (twenty-eight  years  of  age),  he  is  very 
wealthy.  A  large  fortune  was  left  him  by  an  uncle,  who 
amassed  wealth  in  the  East  India  trade,  and  he  has  been 
constantly  adding  to  it.  His  habits  of  prudence  and 
economy  have  enabled  him  to  give  large  sums  for  chari 
table  purposes  without  impairing  his  necessary  capital  in 
trade;  and  he  says  he  believes  'it  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive,'  and  that  he  has  never  felt  so  well 
satisfied  with  himself  as  when  he  has  just  been  called 
upon  to  contribute  to  some  charitable  object.  You  shall 
have  an  introduction  to  him  this  evening,  as  he  will  be 
here. " 

Evening  came,  and  Mr.  Shepherd  called,  as  was  ex 
pected  ;  and  he  proved  in  appearance  just  what  my  mind 
had  fancied;  a  little  above  the  medium  height,  spare- 
built,  a  noble  countenance,  genial  and  yet  commanding 

7 


74  ASP  AS  I  A. 

in  his  appearance,  a  quick,  penetrating  look,  and  a  physi 
ognomy  which  indicated  a  sagacity  of  judgment,  gener 
osity,  reverence,  and  deep-toned  sympathy  ;  and,  alto 
gether,  he  was  at  sight  my  beau  ideal  of  a  man,  and, 
upon  acquaintance,  I  found  him  very  agreeable  in  con 
versation,  intelligent  and  communicative,  without  re 
serve  or  affectation. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  evening,  after  we  had  become 
somewhat  familiar,  he  inquired  why  I  was  not  looking  up 
a  husband.  I  replied  that  I  had  resolved  to  complete 
my  education,  as  it  was  the  wish  of  my  mother  when 
living,  and  was  still  the  desire  of  my  father,  that  I  should. 
lie  then  remarked  that  he  had  a  gentleman  friend  who 
would  want  a  good  wife  some  time,  and  he  would  be 
pleased  to  introduce  him  on  the  morrow,  if  agreeable  to 
me.  I  replied  that  I  should  certainly  be  pleased  to  form 
the  acquaintance  of  his  friend,  and  inquired  his  name. 
He  replied  it  was  Mr.  Goodspeed.  "  Goodspeed,  Good- 
speed,-'  said  I  to  myself.  "Where  have  I  ever  heard 
that  name  ?"  And,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  could  not 
recollect. 

The  morrow  came :  it  was  New-year's-day ;  a  fine 
New  England  winter  day.  A  new  and  deep  snow  had 
fallen. 

As  I  looked  out  of  my  window  in  the  morning  upon 
the  beautiful  white  crystals,  as  they  lay  snugly  banked 
together,  I  could  but  think  it  was  in  harmony  with  the 
purity  of  soul  of  my  dear  friends  who  were  about  to  be 
joined  in  the  holy  bands  of  matrimony. 

Evening  came,  and  the  invited  guests  early  assembled, 
and  at  the  appointed  time  Mr.  Shepherd  and  Rose  came 
into  the  room.  The  guests  all  arose  as  they  entered,  and 
welcomed  them.  Soon  after  the  performance  of  Ihe  wed 
ding  ceremony,  the  friends  who  were  invited  to  the  recep- 


AS  PAS  I  A,  75 

tion  began  to  arrive,  and  the  festivities  of  the  occasion 
were  continued  until  a  late  hour  in  the  evening. 

Mr.  Shepherd  was  true  to  his  promise,  and  introduced 
me  to  his  friend  Mr.  Goodspeed.  I  found  him  a  very 
agreeable  gentleman,  and  very  attentive ;  and,  upon  part 
ing  that  evening,  he  requested  the  privilege  of  correspond 
ing  with  me,  which  I  freely  granted,  as  there  need  not,  of 
necessity,  any  evil  result  from  it,  for  I  could  discontinue 
it  at  any  time. 

The  day  after  the  wedding  I  left  for  the  seminary,  and 
as  I  parted  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blackwell,  and  Rose  and 
her  husband,  they  poured  forth  a  flood  of  tears ;  and, 
loading  me  with  valuable  presents  as  a  more  substantial 
testimony  of  their  love,  I  was  taken  to  the  train  in  their 
sleigh,  and* was  soon  on  my  way  back  to  school.  I 
reached  there  in  safety  before  nightfall.  The  next  day 
I  resumed  my  studies. 

Nothing  soon  occurred  of  unusual  interest,  except  it 
may  be  a  correspondence  between  Mr.  Goodspeed  and 
myself. 

A  few  days  after  my  return  from  the  wedding,  I  re 
ceived  the  following: 

"  No.  —  SCHOOL  STREET, 

"  BOSTON,  January  6,  18 — . 

"  MY  DEAR  Miss  ASPASIA  HoRTON : — Referring  to  the 
few  happy  moments  I  was  permitted  to  enjoy  your  com 
pany  at  the  brilliant  wedding  of  our  mutual  friends,  at 
Mr.  Blackwell's,  in  this  city,  a  few  days  since,  and  your 
kindness  in  permitting  me  to  open  a  correspondence  with 
you,  I  now  venture  to  address  you;  and,  I  confess,  it  is 
not  without  serious  misgivings  that  I  do  so.  Your  friend 
Rose,  now  Mrs.  Shepherd,  has  spoken  of  you  in  such  ex 
alted  terms  that  I  fear  an  uncultured  expression  may 


76  A  SPA  SI  A. 

find  a  place  upon  this  sheet  and  be  detected  by  your 
quick  vision  and  scholarly  attainments.  I  need  not  as 
sure  you  of  my  profound  regard, — nay,  more,  of  my  most 
ardent  love, — and  I  beg  the  privilege  of  frequent  corre 
spondence,  trusting  my  expressions  of  esteem  and  love 
may  find  a  response  in  your  heart,  and  that  you  will 
favor  me  with  your  letters  as  oft  as  possible. 

"  Anxiously  awaiting  your  reply, 

"  I  am  affectionately  yours, 

"MORGAN  GOODSPEED." 

On  reading  the  letter,  I  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  "  What 
a  goose!"  said  I  to  myself.  "My  most  ardent  love!"  ha! 
ha!  "Well,  well,"  thought  I,  "this  is  Young  America, 
surely.  Never  saw  him  but  once,  nor  he  me;  and  yet  he 
not  only  entertains  '  profound  regard'  for  me,  but  even 
loves  me  most  ardently."  Said  I  to  myself,  "  Young  gen 
tleman,  if  your  heart  is  so  vulnerable,  you  may  get  fooled 
one  of  these  days." 

My  way  always  is,  if  I  have  anything  undone  that  is 
to  be  done,  to  at  once  set  about  doing  it.  So,  when  I 
receive  letters  from  friends,  I  answer  them  immediately, 
and  this  for  two  or  three  reasons:  first,  the  news  con 
veyed  in  the  letter  received,  and  to  which  I  am  to  reply, 
is  always  of  more  intei'est  to  me  while  fresh  than  after 
it  has  lain  upon  my  table  for  a  week,  and  therefore  it  is 
that  I  can  indite  an  answer  of  more  interest  to  my  friend; 
and,  second,  if  I  reply  immediately  to  a  letter  received, 
my  friend  takes  it  as  evidence  on  my  part  that  I  appre 
ciate  his  letter  ;  and,  third,  upon  the  general  principle, 
Avhich  has  ever  been  the  rule  of  my  life,  "  whatsoever 
thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  all  thy  might." 

Acting  upon  this  principle,  I  said  to  myself,  "Although 
I  think  Mr.  Goodspeed  a  little  imprudent,  yet  he  may  be 


AS  PAS  I  A.  77 

honest,  at  all  events.  He  is  the  friend  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Shepherd,  and  I  must  reply :  so  here  it  goes."  And  I 
scribbled  off  the  following : 


SEMINARY,  January  9,  18—. 


"  MORGAN  GOODSPEED,  ESQ.,  —  School  Street,  Boston  : 

"Mv  DEAR  SIR: — Your  favor  of  the  6th  came  by  to 
day's  mail,  and  I  have  just  read  it  with  interest. 

"  With  pleasure  does  my  mind  revert  to  the  brilliant 
party  at  Mr.  Blackwell's,  and  I  am  pleased  to  offer  you 
expressions  of  gratitude  and  esteem  for  your  courteous 
and  gentlemanly  attentions  at  that  wedding,  and  espe 
cially  as  I  was  but  a  country  lady  amidst  the  sparkling 
city  belles.  But  your  letter  flatters  me.  I  really  feel  as 
though  either  your  judgment  is  at  fault,  or  I  must  have 
unconsciously  put  on  counterfeit  charms;  for  I  cannot 
conceive  why,  amidst  all  the  splendor  that  was  shown 
forth  by  the  ladies  that  evening,  you  should,  in  reality, 
have  become  so  enamored  of  me.  So  far  as  future  cor 
respondence  is  concerned,  I  should  not,  for  the  present, 
object;  for,  if  we  can  be  of  any  real  service  to  each  other, 
we  shall  both  be  in  the  discharge  of  our  duty. 

"  Be  pleased  to  remember  me  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shep 
herd  as  you  have  opportunity, 

"And  accept  my  high  regards. 

"  Truly,  yours, 

"  ASPASIA    HORTON." 

Being  upon  the  last  half  of  my  last  year  at  the  semi 
nary,  I  was  just  commencing  the  study  of  mental  phi 
losophy,  moral  science,  geology,  and  history  of  litera 
ture,  besides  perfecting  my  Latin  and  Greek  readings; 
,  I  was  compelled  to  work  very  hard  at  mv 
7* 


78  A  SPA  SI  A. 

studies,  and,  until  near  the  close  of  the  term,  I  declined 
all  invitations  to  visit  out  of  the  seminary. 

One  afternoon  I  found  a  note  from  the  principal,  Miss 
Haywood,  on  my  table,  to  the  effect  that  she  wished  to 
meet  the  young  ladies  of  the  seminary  to  converse  upon 
general  topics  of  interest  and  to  a  general  debate,  intend 
ing  it  for  the  development  of  their  argumentative  powers, 
and,  if  they  possessed  any  talents  in  that  direction,  she 
would  endeavor  to  make  it  both  pleasant  and  profitable  ; 
that  but  three  or  four  ladies  could  argue  upon  a  subject 
each  evening,  while  the  others  could  listen,  and  decide 
the  question  at  the  close.  That  the  first  meeting  would 
be  held  in  the  large  hall  that  evening,  and  she  had  des 
ignated  myself,  with  two  other  young  ladies  and  herself, 
to  carry  on  the  debate;  that  I  must  not  fail  to  attend; 
she  would  announce  the  subject  for  discussion  at  the 
opening  of  the  meeting. 

I  looked  through  my  portfolio,  found  the  letter  received 
from  my  dear  father  that  morning,  and  hastily  answering 
it,  handed  it  to  the  postman,  who  just  then  called  for 
letters  for  the  mail,  and  prepared  myself  for  tea. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

EVENING  came,  and  I  repaired  to  the  large  hall,  and 
found  the  young  ladies  all  assembled. 

A  table  and  four  chairs  stood  in  the  center  of  the  hall. 
Miss  Haywood  was  seated  at  the  table,  leisurely  turning 
the  leaves  of  a  bock,  apparently  reading,  but  really  to 
relieve  herself  from  the  gaze  of  the  young  ladies  who 
were  seated  around  the  room. 

Shortly  after  I  entered,  she  arose  from  her  seat,  and 
addressed  the  meeting  in  a  short  speech,  as  follows : 

"  It  has  been  a  deep  study  with  me  how,  or  in  what 
manner,  or  by  what  process,  I  can  be  instrumental  in 
fitting  my  young  ladies  for  society.  What  is  needed  in 
the  education  of  young  ladies  is  a  moral  and  intellectual 
training  to  take  the  place  of  the  dancing-school  and  fit 
them  to  adorn  the  parlor  or  drawing-room.  If,  with 
their  knowledge  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  they  could,  by 
practice,  acquire  the  faculty  to  communicate  that  knowl 
edge  with  ease  and  grace,  they  would  find  themselves 
the  center  of  attraction  at  every  social  entertainment ;  for 
in  every  company  there  are  found  those  who  are  fond  of 
discussion,  some  for  diversion,  some  to  hear  themselves 
talk,  'and  who  e'en  though  vanquished  will  argue  still,' 
and  others  from  a  desire  to  acquire  and  impart  informa 
tion  ;  and  though  a  large  portion  of  the  company  may  be 
gay,  light-headed,  and  trifling,  vet  they  will  respect  a 
sound  reasoner  nevertheless. 

(19) 


80  A  SPAS  I  A. 

"  It  is  for  this  purpose,  young  ladies,  that  I  have  called 
this  meeting;  I  propose  to  hold  others  once  each  week 
during  the  remainder  of  the  term,  as  one  of  the  regular 
exercises  of  the  seminary. 

"I  shall  not,  in  any  case,  give  intimation  of  the  subject 
to  be  discussed  until  at  the  opening  of  each  meeting ;  for 
my  object  is  to  stimulate  your  conversational  powers  and 
make  you  ready  talkers." 

She  then  named  the  debaters  for  that  evening  (myself 
being  one  of  them),  requesting  them  to  be  seated  at  the 
table.  On  taking  our  seats,  she  announced  the  following 
subject  for  discussion,  viz.: 

"  Which  are  the  most  potent,  the  seen  or  the  unseen 
forces?" 

"  Miss  Julia  and  myself  will  assume  that  the  seen 
forces  are  the  most  potent,  and  Aspasia  and  Bell  may 
argue  in  favor  of  the  potency  of  the  unseen  forces. 

"  And,  to  proceed,  in  support  of  my  theory  that  the 
seen  forces  are  the  most  powerful,  I  am  not  to  be  con 
fined  to  my  own  limited  vision,  but  to  range  through 
history, — at  least,  to  search  it  so  far  as  the  limited  time 
will  allow. 

"  In  glancing  over  the  history  of  the  dead  past,  we 
start  with  the  achievements  of  the  ancient  Egyptians. 
The  erection  of  those  vast  monuments  of  grandeur  and 
power,  mounting  up  to  heaven,  even  the  modus  operand! 
of  their  construction,  is  far  beyond  our  comprehension : 
yet  it  was  a  seen  force  which  transported  those  immense 
blocks  across  the  sea  and  elevated  them  to  so  great  alti 
tudes.  Again,  visit  with  me  that  rich  and  elegant  city, 
Babylon,  the  boastful  queen  of  cities.  The  accounts  we 
have  from  history  of  its  wealth,  its  immense  walls,  its 
vast  extent,  its  magnificence,  are  more  like  Oriental  fancy 
than  real  historical  facts.  Walls  that  were  originally  over 


A  SPA  SI  A.  81 

three  hundred  feet  high,  seventy-five  feet  broad,  and  sixty 
miles  in  circumference.  One  temple  (Baal,  or  Belus)  was 
half  a  mile  in  circuit,  and  forty  rods,  or  six  hundred  and 
sixty-three  feet,  in  height.  And  for  the  gratification  of 
one  of  its  queens,  who  had  been  brought  from  the  mount 
ains  of  Persia,  her  lord,  the  monarch  of  the  city,  erected 
hanging  gardens  in  the  midst  of  the  plain,  tier  after  tier 
resting  upon  arch  above  arch,  all  covered  to  a  great 
depth  with  the  rich  soil  of  the  plain,  and  planted  with  the 
floral  beauties  of  all  lands,  this  mighty  and  splendid 
artificial  mountain  towering  far  above  the  walls  of  the 
city,  and,  consequently,  overlooking  the  vast  plain  of  the 
Euphrates.  Add  to  this  the  hundred  massive  gates  of 
brass  which  protected  the  city  on  the  river  side.  Then, 
again,  its  artificial  lake,  forty  miles  square,  just  outside 
the  city. 

"  And  was  not  all  this  grandeur  and  magnificence  of 
art  the  result  of  seen  forces  ? 

"Then  come  down  with  me  to  the  time  of  the  Grecians, 
when  art  was  in  its  perfection.  Behold  the  beautiful 
temple  of  Diana,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world,  exceed 
ing  in  magnificence  anything  within  our  conception.  Also 
the  Parthenon,  celebrated  the  world  over  for  the  beauty 
of  its  architecture,  grandeur,  and  magnificence  of  design. 
Cross  over  with  me  to  Rome,  and  view  St.  Peter's,  the 
wonder  and  admiration  of  the  world. 

"Were  not  all  these  the  production  of  seen  forces? 
Did  not  the  labor  and  skill  of  man  accomplish  all  this  ? 

"  Come  down  with  me  to  more  modern  times.  For 
merly,  the  only  means  of  communication  between  per 
sons  at  a  distance  was  by  posts  or  signals,  and  history 
was  written  in  hieroglyphics.  But  the  genius  of  man — 
a  seen  force — established,  and  put  in  successful  opera 
tion,  the  printing-press,  by  which  history  is  recorded  with 


82  AS  PAS  I  A. 

the  rapidity  of  thought.  Yes,  and  by  the  operation  of 
the  telegraph  two  continents,  separated  by  the  mighty 
Atlantic,  are  brought  together ;  and  men,  sitting  in  their 
offices  thousands  of  miles  apart,  with  the  broad  ocean 
intervening,  may  talk  with  each  other  freely  and  ra 
pidly. 

"Behold  the  wonderful  bridges  spanning  mighty  rivers 
and  fearful  gulfs,  dangling  in  the  air  like  the  string  of  a 
boy's  kite  ;  yet  they  sustain  and  bear  across  safely  im 
mense  railway-trains.  Do  the  people  of  one  of  our  cities 
desire  pure  water,  they  hesitate  not  to  tunnel  for  miles 
under  an  inland  sea,  and  thus  draw  from  an  inexhaustible 
fountain. 

"And  is  not  all  this  the  work  and  accomplishment  of 
man,  a  seen  force  ? 

"Examine  the  manufactured  fabrics,  woolen,  cotton, 
silk,  and  worsted,  in  all  variety  of  colors,  shades,  and  de 
signs.  Go  into  those  factories.  Examine  the  machinery, 
which,  apparently,  operates  by  its  own  volition. 

"And  is  not  all  this  the  accomplishment  of  the  seen 
force  ? 

"  I  trust,  ladies,  that  I  have  succeeded  in  establishing 
in  your  minds  the  fact  of  the  greater  potency  of  the  seen 
over  the  unseen  forces." 

Miss  Haywood  took  her  seat  amidst  the  waving  of 
handkerchiefs  and  clapping  of  hands. 

She  then  called  upon  Bell  to  answer  her. 

Bell  excused  herself  by  saying  "the  arguments  pre 
sented  seemed  to  have  exhausted  the  subject,  and  she 
dared  not  venture  a  reply." 

Miss  Haywood  then  called  upon  me. 

I  replied  that  "  the  closing  argument  belonged  to  me, 
her  colleague,  Miss  Julia,  might  proceed  with  her  argu 
ment,  and  I  would  close  the  debate." 


,   A  SPA  SI  A.  83 

Miss  Julia,  rising,  said,  "  I  shall  not  trespass  upon 
your  time  and  patience  but  for  one  moment.  I  cannot 
say  anything  to  strengthen  the  case  so  ably  presented  by 
my  colleague  in  this  argument,  and  can  only  add  that  I 
deem  them  conclusive  ;  and,  in  view  of  the  rapid  pro 
gress  made  through  the  agency  of  the  seen  forces  in  the 
past,  we  may  believe  that  such  development  will  be 
greatly  accelerated  in  the  future." 

It  now  devolved  upon  me  to  close  the  discussion.  It 
was  not  without  great  misgivings  that  I  arose,  and, 
wiping  the  perspiration  from  my  brow,  I  spoke  as  fol 
lows  : 

"Young  ladies,  in  discussing  this  important  proposi 
tion,  which  has  been  so  ably  argued  on  the  other  side  by 
our  lady  principal,  I  must  ask  your  patience  and  forbear 
ance;  for,  as  you  are  aware,  I  was  wholly  ignorant  of  the 
subject  to  be  discussed,  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  at 
least  presumable,  from  the  masterly  manner  in  which  she 
has  opened  the  debate,  that  she  had  thoroughly  consid 
ered  the  subject.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  shall  endeavor 
to  prove, 'by  argument  and  sound  philosophy,  that  the 
position  assumed  by  my  opponent  is  untenable,  that  the 
unseen  forces  are  vastly  more  potent  and  effective  than 
the  seen ;  and,  in  discussing  this,  I  am  free  to  acknowl 
edge  my  obligations  to  my  opponents  for  opening  up 
so  wide  a  range  for  argument;  for  while  they  have  trav 
ersed  considerably  outside  the  theme  actually  under  dis 
cussion,  it  warrants  me,  in  my  reply,  to  follow  them  into 
the  unexplored  fields  suggested  by  their  arguments,  and 
thus  be  enabled  to  show  more  clearly  not  only  the  effects 
or  results  of  the  unseen  forces,  but  what  may  be  antici 
pated  in  the  future. 

"  We  read,  '  In  the  beginning  Clod  created  the  heaven, 
and  the  earth;  and  the  earth  was  without  form,  and 


84  ASP  ASIA. 

void.'  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light;  and  there  was 
light.' 

"  Now,  then,  has  any  argument  been  presented  to  us 
this  evening  to  prove  that  any  seen  force  is,  or  ever  was, 
able  to  call  a  world  into  being  from  chaos,  and  clothe  that 
world  with  living  splendor  and  people  it  with  immortal 
souls  ? 

"And  was  it  not  an  unseen  force  which  accomplished 
all  this  ?  Has  any  one  ever  seen  God  ?  And  is  he  not 
the  great  unseen  force  which  sustains,  rules,  and  guides 
the  world  ? 

"My  opponent  has  referred,  in  brilliant  language,  to 
the  temple  of  Belus  reaching  up  to  heaven ;  to  the 
splendor  and  magnificence  of  Babylon  and  its  wonderful 
hanging  gardens,  over  three  hundred  feet  in  height ;  to 
the  temples  of  Minerva  and  Diana,  that  were  the  wonder 
and  admiration  of  the  world ;  to  the  Church  of  St.  Peter's 
at  Rome;  and  to  the  glorious  achievements  of  men  in 
more  modern  times.  And  her  arguments  were  poured 
forth  in  such  strains  of  eloquence  that,  were  it  not  for 
the  consciousness  that  the  eternal  principles  of  truth  are 
on  my  side,  I  should  have  shrunk  from  even  attempting 
a  reply. 

"  But  she  could  have  added  to  her  list  of  works  of  art 
of  astounding  magnificence,  the  productions  of  man  (the 
seen  force)  ad  infinitum;  for  the  Old  World  is  full  of  ruins 
which  bespeak  the  potency  not  of  the  seen  force,  but  of 
the  unseen. 

"  Many  of  those  surprising  works  of  art  referred  to 
have  perished.  Admit,  for  argument's  sake  only,  that 
they  were  the  creations  of  the  seen  force.  How  comes  it 
that  they  have  perished  ?  Because  of  the  far  greater 
potency  of  an  unseen  force.  Neglected  and  forsaken  by 
men,  that  mysterious  unseen  force  has  been  quietly  and 


A  SPA  SI  A.  85 

silently  crumbling  them  all  to  dust.  Many  of  the  most 
stupendous  works  referred  to  are  so  completely  destroyed 
that  no  vestige  of  them  remains. 

"  My  opponent  might  with  equal  propriety  have  offered 
as  proof  the  magnificence  of  the  cities  of  Herculaneum 
and  Pompeii,  with  all  their  statues  and  elegant  paintings. 
But  were  these  not  all  destroyed  in  an  hour  by  an  unseen 
force,  when  Vesuvius  first  uttered  a  groan  as  if  writhing 
with  pain,  and,  opening  its  mouth,  belched  forth  a  flood 
of  fire  and  lava,  burying  those  ill-fated  cities?  Was  it 
not  an  unseen  force  ?  And  has  any  one  ever  looked 
down  into  the  bowels  of  that  grand  old  mountain,  and 
seen  the  force  which  vomited  out  that  liquid  fire  ?  Surely 
not.  And,  since  the  creation  of  the  world,  has  there  been 
so  powerful  an  exhibition  of  the  seen  forces  as  that  awful 
catastrophe  ?  No,  never  ! 

"I  admit  that  art,  in  its  grandeur,  was  apparently  per 
fected  in  the  times  and  cities  of  the  Old  World ;  but  was 
not  that  also  the  product  of  an  unseen  force  in  the  soul 
of  man,  moving  him  on  to  the  accomplishment  of  those 
grand  and' elegant  works  of  art? 

"  We  are  told  by  the  debaters  on  the  other  side  that  the 
elegance  of  our  manufactured  fabrics  is  another  exhibition 
of  the  potency  of  the  seen  forces.  Why?  Because,  for 
sooth,  those  machines  which  seem  to  perform  those  won 
derful  feats  as  if  by  their  own  volition,  were  the  device 
and  workmanship  of  man ;  and  those  machines,  in  per 
forming  their  manipulations,  are,  we  are  told,  seen  forces. 
This  I  most  distinctly  deny ;  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
no  forces  at  all.  Were  they  forces,  they  would  never 
cease  tl\,eir  operations.  But  we  find  that  so  soon  as  the 
actual  force  which  propels  them  is  withdrawn  or  \vitli- 
held,  they  are  silent  and  inactive  ;  and  even  those  111:1- 

8 


86  ASP  ASIA. 

chines  were  not,  as  is  claimed,  the  result  of  seen  force, 
but  of  the  unseen.  The  mind  of  man,  that  mysterious 
unseen  force,  devised,  wrought  out,  and  put  them  in 
operation. 

"As  I  look  out  of  my  window,  a  snow-storm  is  wrap 
ping  the  cold  earth  in  its  soft  and  fleecy  fold.  One  by 
one,  flake  after  flake,  in  quick  succession,  drops  out  of 
the  dark  and  mysterious  ethereal  space  and  takes  its 
place  upon  the  ground. 

"  The  darkness  of  night  conies  on.  Silently  and  softly 
the  little  crystals  continue  to  drop  during  the  night. 

"I  arise  in  the  morning,  and  immense  snow-banks  have 
formed,  which  require  the  labor  of  men  and  teams  for  days 
to  remove  sufficient  for  a  passage.  Now,  will  my  oppo 
nent  tell  us  if  any  one  has  ever  seen  that  force  which  was 
the  cause  of  all  this  ? 

"  Spring-time  has  come,  and  the  meadows  are  grow 
ing  green.  From  day  to  day  I  watch  the  growth  of 
the  grass.  Silently  and  most  mysteriously  it  continues, 
until  it  is  ready  for  the  harvest,  and  is  then  garnered  into 
barns  to  nourish  and  sustain  animal  life  during  another 
cold  and  dreary  winter.  Has  any  one  seen  the  power 
which  causes  all  this  ?  No  !  It  is  a  secret  unseen  force 
far  beyond  our  comprehension. 

"  The  night  is  cold  and  cheerless ;  morning  dawns;  the 
atmosphere  is  cool  and  bracing.  The  day  is  lovely.  The 
sun  in  the  heavens  shines  forth  with  its  wonted  brilliancy 
and  splendor.  Mid-day  comes,  and  the  intense  heat  causes 
the  flocks  and  herds  to  seek  the  shade ;  the  farmer  un 
hitches  his  team  and  leads  them  to  the  stalls,  and  himself 
retires  'neath  the  shade  to  rest  until  the  heat  of  the  day  is 
over.  Hark  !  I  hear  a  distant  sound,  as  of  thunder.  A 
small  cloud  is  seen  crawling  up  the  western  horizon.  It 
increases  rapidly  in  size,  until  yonder  heavens  are  as  black 


AS  PAS  I  A.  87 

as  night ;  and  from  out  that  dark  and  mysterious  cloud  I 
see  fire  darting  forth,  and  with  peal  after  peal  the  artillery 
of  heaven  pours  forth  its  volleys.  The  clouds  overshadow 
the  earth;  and  where,  but  a  half-hour  since,  all  was  beau 
tiful,  now  all  is  awfully  sublime  and  fearfully  grand.  The 
storm  rages ;  the  lightnings  flash  and  dart  athwart  the 
heavens;  the  grand  old  oaken  forests,  that  have  withstood 
the  storms  of  centuries,  bow  their  heads,  and  are  swept  to 
the  ground  by  this  storm-king.  Cities  and  villages  which 
lie  in  its  path,  that  required  the  labor  of  thousands  of 
men  (seen  forces)  to  erect  and  embellish,  are,  in  a  single 
hour,  totally  demolished  by  this  terrible  unseen  force. 

"I  trust,  ladies,  that  I  have  convinced  you  that  the 
unseen  forces  are  vastly  more  potent  than  the  seen." 

The  debate  being  closed,  Miss  Haywood  arose,  and,  ad 
dressing  herself  to  the  audience,  said, 

"  Young  ladies,  the  arguments  of  Aspasia  are  conclu 
sive.  I  admit  myself  vanquished.  I  am  convinced,  as  I 
know  you  must  all  be,  by  the  powerful  arguments  pre 
sented  by  my  opponent  as  to  the  power  of  the  unseen 
over  the  seen  forces." 

At  this  announcement  the  young  ladies  arose  with  a 
shout  and  clapping  of  hands.  Flowers  and  bouquets 
were  thrown  at  my  feet.  Thus  ended  the  first  lyceurn 
meeting  in  the  seminary. 

To  detail  my  experience  during  the  remainder  of  the 
term  would  be  uninteresting  ;  and  I  will  only  briefly  refer 
to  some  further  correspondence  with  Mr.  Goodspeed. 

As  seen  by  the  date  of  the  letter,  it  was  not  until  the 
middle  of  February  that  I  again  heard  from  him  ;  and  I 
supposed  that  in  criticising  my  letter  he  had  concluded 
that  his  most  "  ardent  love"  expressions  did  not  meet  with 
a  full  and  hearty  response,  and  that  he  would  venture  no 
further;  but  at  last  I  received  the  following  : 


88  ASP  ASIA. 

"  No.  —  SCHOOL  STREET, 

"  BOSTON,  February  15,  18 — . 

"Mr  DEAR  ASPASIA: — Your  dignified  yet  courteous 
letter  of  the  9th  ultimo  reached  me  by  due  course  of  mail, 
and  my  long  silence  has,  without  doubt,  awakened  serious 
apprehensions  in  your  mind;  but  when  you  come  to  learn 
the  real  cause  of  my  delay  in  answering  your  very  precious 
letter,  you  will  overlook  the  seeming  negligence. 

"  I  received  yours  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  had  but 
just  read  it  when  I  received  a  telegram  from  New  Orleans 
that  a  merchant  whom  our  house  had  trusted  for  large 
amounts  was  about  to  make  an  assignment,  and  prefer 
his  creditors  at  the  South,  and  if  one  of  the  members  of 
our  house  would  come  on  there  at  once  we  could  save 
the  debt.  Looking  at  my  watch,  I  saw  I  had  but  ten 
minutes  in  which  to  reach  the  train.  I  said  to  my 
partner,  '  Mr.  Hammond,  have  the  book-keeper  forward 
to  me  at  New  Orleans,  by  to-morrow  morning's  express, 

Mr. 's  account;  also  take  my  keys  (handing  them 

to  him),  go  to  my  hotel  and  pack  my  satchel,  and  for 
ward  that  at  the  same  time.  I  will  keep  you  advised 
of  my  success.'  In  a  few  moments  I  reached  the  depot, 
iust  in  season  to  jump  on  board  the  cars  as  they  were 
passing  out,  and  was  then  on  my  way  to  New  Orleans, 
whither  I  reached  in  safety  ;  my  satchel  did  not  reach  me 
for  three  days  after.  And,  since  I  have  felt  it  necessary 
to  detail  this  trip,  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  you 
to  know  that  I  succeeded  in  securing  the  entire  debt. 
Finding  that  I  had  outgeneraled  him,  and  that  there 
was  no  possible  way  of  escape,  he  got  his  friends  to  see 
me  and  obtain  a  proposition  for  discounting  the  debt. 
This  he  was  compelled  to  do,  or  utterly  fail,  without  an 
opportunity  to  pocket  a  single  dollar,  as  with  my  legal 
process  I  had  been  able  to  seize  upon  his  entire  stock  in 


AS  PAST  A.  89 

trade,  and  it  was  sure.  I  proposed  to  discount  ten  per 
cent,  for  cash,  which  was  readily  accepted,  and  the  money 
paid  me, — -forty-two  thousand  and  four  hundred  dol 
lars.  After  settling1  with  my  attorney,  and  reserving 
sufficient  for  my  expenses,  I  remitted  the  remainder  to 
my  house. 

"  I  was  so  completely  absorbed  in  this  undertaking  that 
I  could  not  find  a  moment's  time  to  write. 

"  This  is  my  excuse  for  not  writing  sooner,  which  I 
doubt  not  will  appear  reasonable  and  sufficient  to  you. 

"  I  arrived  home  this  morning,  very  much  fatigued,  yet 
not  so  but  that  I  can  spend  an  hour  in  writing  you. 

"  Permit  me  to  philosophize  for  a  moment  upon  a  crea 
ture  we  call  man, — a  business-man,  if  you  please. 

"  When  I  first  commenced  in  business,  I  thought  that 
if  a  customer  from  the  South  or  West,  while  purchasing 
a  bill  of  goods,  should  inquire  what  church  I  attended, 
and  if  I  could  inform  him  at  what  hour  the  Sabbath- 
school  was  held,  and  whether  such  and  such  a  church 
had  Wednesday  evening  meetings,  it  would  be  perfectly 
safe  to  trust  such  a  person  for  all  he  would  purchase ;  but, 
alas !  as  Widow  Bedott  says,  'man  is  a  poor  weak  critter ;' 
or,  as  another  who  has  written  of  him  most  elegantly 
styles  him,  '  a  poor  fellow.'  This  customer  of  mine  was 
one  of  that  class,  a  '  wolf  arrayed  in  sheep's  clothing,' 
'stealing  the  livery  of  heaven  to  serve  the  devil  in.'  He 
pretended  to  be  an  elder  in  a  Presbyterian  church ;  and 
yet  scarcely  a  business-man  in  New  Orleans  who  is  not 
a  relative  of  his  would  believe  him  under  oath.  Does 
it  not  indeed  seem  very  strange  that  men  can  become  so 
wicked  ?  I  have  never  professed  religion,  and  for  years 
did  not  attend  church,  and  I  feasted  on  what  I  termed 
the  sins  of  Christians ;  but  when  I  came  to  investigate 

8* 


90  ASP  AS  I  A. 

this  case  I  found  that  Christianity  was  in  no  way  re 
sponsible  for  it.  To  scan  my  own  acts  and  judgments, 
I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that,  in  a  measure  at  least, 
I  have  been  in  the  wrong.  In  my  experience  I  have  also 
learned  that  men — yes,  and  women  also — are  not  always 
the  same  abroad  as  they  are  at  home.  Here,  too,  'is  an 
evil  under  the  sun.'  But  the  facilities  for  quick  commu 
nication  between  distant  parts  of  the  country  are  now  so 
great,  and  there  are  so  many  more  people  traveling  than 
formerly,  that  a  man  has  to  be  more  careful  how  he  de 
ports  himself  while  away  from  home  than  a  few  years 
since,  lest  he  may  be  seen  by  his  neighbors  and  they 
communicate  to  his  friends.  I  look  upon  this  as  one  of 
the  great  safeguards  of  our  young  country  merchants  in 
coming  to  the  city  to  make  purchases ;  and  is  among  the 
means  employed  by  Providence  to  correct  evil  habits  and 
stimulate  to  nobler  thoughts  and  deeds. 

"  Leaving  this  subject,  as  quite  likely  it  may  be  unin 
teresting  to  your  finely  cultivated  mind,  I  wish  to  reiterate 
my  expressions  of  ardent  attachment  to  you.  I  do  not 
think,  as  you  intimate,  '  that  my  judgment  \vas  at  fault,' 
nor  that  you  '  put  on  counterfeit  charms.'  I  have  lived 
quite  long  in  fashionable  life,  for  one  of  my  years.  My  ex 
perience  in  society  has  been  extensive;  and  I  have  never, 
in  a  single  instance,  been  deceived  in  my  estimate  of  a 
lady's  character  and  talents.  This  is  no  egotism,  and  I 
feel  justified,  under  the  circumstances,  in  making  the 
statement.  True,  there  were  ladies  at  the  wedding  who 
were  dressed  more  elegantly  than  yourself,  and,  so  far  as 
trinkets  were  an  adornment,  far  outshone  you.  Yet  in 
the  matter  of  true,  genuine  adornment  of  grace  and  re 
finement,  with  a  cultured  intellect  and  a  mind  trained  by 
education  to  take  life  like  a  true  philosopher,  and  appa 
rently  without  an  envious  thought,  you  seemed  the  per- 


ASPASIA.  91 

fection  of  woman  to  me;  and  I  am  not  yet  willing  to  ad 
mit  that  my  conclusions  were  incorrect.  I  am  anxious  to 
test  it  by  yet  more  intimate  acquaintanceship. 

"  I  met  Mr.  Shepherd  just  as  I  reached  my  store,  and 
gave  him  and  for  his  loving  wife  your  regards.  Although 
long  since  made,  I  took  it  for  granted  you  had  not  re 
scinded  the  order.  He  wished  me  to  return  his  and  Mrs. 
Shepherd's  regards  to  you. 

"  I  beg  of  you  to  reply  at  once.  Give  me  a  good  long 
letter,  and  write  everything  that  has  transpired  since  I 
saw  you  that  you  think  will  be  of  interest  to  me. 

"And  believe  me,  truly  and  affectionately  yours, 

"MORGAN  GOODSPEED." 

After  reading  this  letter  carefully,  and  closely  criticising 
the  line  of  thought  developed,  I  said  to  myself,  "  Neither 
am  I  mistaken.  Mr.  Goodspeed  is  evidently  a  gentleman 
of  sagacity,  sound  judgment,  close,  discriminating  mind, 
warm-hearted,  generous,  and  impulsive,  and  is  deserving 
of  a  good  wife."  But,  as  for  me,  I  could  not  and  would 
not  think  of  such  a  thing,  for  sister  Elizabeth  was  just 
about  to  be  married,  and  I  should  have  to  go  home  and 
take  care  of  father,  being  fully  resolved  never  to  leave 
him  alone.  I  therefore  wrote  Mr.  Goodspeed,  expressing 
profound  respect  and  admiration  for  him,  thanking  him 
most  generously  for  his  favors,  and  saying  that,  from  the 
fact  that  I  should  be  intensely  occupied  with  my  studies 
during  the  remainder  of  the  term,  and  for  other  reasons 
as  herein  stated,  I  felt  it  a  duty  to  himself  to  discontinue 
the  correspondence  with  this  letter. 

The  result  was,  that  in  about  a  week  I  received  a  letter 
from  Rose  (Mrs.  Shepherd),  in  which  she  gave  me  a 
good  scolding,  and  promised  to  visit  me  after  my  return 
home, — which  she  did,  as  the  sequel  will  show. 


92  A  SPAS!  A. 

At  last  term  closed,  and  with  it  I  graduated  with  high 
honors, — the  first  in  my  class. 

And,  bidding  good-by  to  my  alma  mater  and  the  loved 
ones  with  whom  I  had  for  three  long  years  associated 
with  no  unkind  word  or  thought,  I  departed  for  my 
home. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

HAVING  completed  my  education,  I  had  returned  home 
fully  'determined  to  remain  with  my  dear  father  so  long 
as  he  desired,— at  least,  never  to  leave  him  permanently, 
should  an  opportunity  offer,  without  first  seeing  that  he 
was  well  provided  for. 

This  resolve  was  rendered  necessary,  at  least  in  part, 
by  the  fact  that  sister  Elizabeth  was  about  to  be  mar 
ried  ;  indeed  she  was  married  within  a  few  weeks  after 
my  return  from  the  seminary ;  and  I  am  pleased  to  know 
that  she  married  well ;  in  fact,  her  husband  possessed  a 
.high  order  of  talents,  and  in  all  respects  was  a  splendid 
gentleman.  And  it  pained  me  to  observe,  as  I  did  in 
after-years,  that  my  sister  did  not  appreciate  him ;  being 
of  an  opposite  temperament,  with  habits  of  thought  and 
ideas  of  propriety  widely  differing  from  her  husband, 
she  was  a  constant  hindrance  to  him.  I  shall  endeavor 
to  give  an  impartial  review  hereafter  of  some  portions 
of  their  married  life  as  it  came  under  my  observation; 
for  there  are  valuable  lessons  to  be  learned  from  their 
experiences. 

Soon  after  my  return,  Laura  Greenwood  was  married, 
and  went  West  to  reside.  She  and  Bell  Jones  spent  only 
one  year  in  the  seminary. 

I  found,  on  returning  home,  that  I  had  more  friends  in 
town  than  I  had  supposed ;  for  during  the  past  three 
years  I  had  been  at  home  but  a  small  portion  of  the  time, 
and  during  that  time  had  grown  in  stature  as  well  as  ma- 


94  A  SPA  SI  A. 

ture  in  mind ;  and  I  found,  on  returning  (and  somewhat 
to  my  surprise),  that  very  many  of  the  ladies, — yes,  and  of 
the  gentlemen  also, — who  looked  upon  me  only  as  a  little 
girl  and  addressed  me  as  Aspasia  when  I  left  home  for  the 
seminary,  now  welcomed  me  back  as  Miss  Horton ;  the 
effect  of  which  naturally  caused  me  to  put  on  something 
of  a  dignified  appearance. 

But  there  was  one  exception  to  the  ladies  in  the  par 
ticular  mentioned.  That  was  Jane  Fisher. 

I  first  met  Jane  in  church  at  the  close  of  the  morning 
service  on  the  first  Sabbath  after  my  return.  She  came 
rushing  up  to  me,  "Aspasia  Horton!  Well,  if  you 
ain't  grown,  I'll  give  it  up !  Come  home  to  stay  ?  Did 
you  graduate  ?  Get  a  diploma  ?  What  luck  did  you  have 
with  your  studies  ?  How  high  did  you  rank  in  your 
class  ?  Have  you  any  idea  of  getting  married  ?  I  heard 
you  had.  Now,  if  it  is  so,  tell  me,  and  then  I  shall  know; 
and  if  you  ain't,  say  so,  for  I  know  you'll  tell  the  truth ; 
and  then  I  can  tell  folks." 

"  Yes,"  thought  I, — "'tell  folks.'  News  is  what  she 
is  after."  She  was  so  impatient  to  learn  everything  that 
she  conceived  possible  for  any  person  to  inquire  about, 
that  she  hardly  had  time  to  take  breath  between  her  inter 
rogatories,  and  I  simply  replied  to  each,  as  fast  as  put, 
with  yes  or  no,  as  the  case  might  be.  While  she  was  pro 
pounding  her  questions,  several  ladies  came  to  meet  me 
cordially,  as  they  said  I  resembled  my  mother  so  much, 
the  memory  of  whose  love  and  affection  still  lingered 
with  them ;  and  they  said  they  thought  they  saw  her 
image  reflected  in  me.  They  all  addressed  me  as  Miss 
Horton.  "No,"  said  Jane:  "it's  Aspasia,  and  nothing 
else,  with  me." 

By  this  time  sister  Kate  and  her  husband  came  and 
relieved  me,  for  I  then  had  an  excuse  to  get  away  from 


AS  PAS  I  A.  95 

Jane  and  avoid  any  further  quizzing  and  questioning1. 
As  I  left,  I  overheard  one  of  the  women  say,  "  How 
much  she  looks  and  acts  like  her  mother!  I  hope  she 
won't  get  married  right  off,  as  all  the  rest  of  Mr.  Hor- 
ton's  children  have,  except  William." 

"  No,"  said  Jane ;  "  she  hain't  no  notion  of  being  mar 
ried  ;  she  told  me  so.  And  I'm  glad  I  asked  her ;  for 
now  I  can  tell  folks." 

"Well,"  thought  I,  "  this  matter  will  be  pretty  well  set 
tled  before  night,  unless  something  serious  should  happen 
to  Jane." 

I  had  been  so  little  accustomed  to  house-work  that  it 
came  pretty  hard  upon  me  at  first  to  have  the  care  of  the 
family.  True,  we  had  a  good  kitchen -girl ;  and  I  have 
often  thought  that  she  (who  really  understood  the  work 
at  first  very  much  better  than  myself)  was  more  patient 
in  teaching  me  than  most  girls  would  have  been,  and  I 
have  ever  remembered  her  with  gratitude. 

As  I  became  more  familiar  with  household  cares,  so  I 
came  to  relish  and  enjoy  such  employments;  and  I  found 
that  physical  exercise  was  the  very  thing  I  needed,  for, 
by  my  habits  of  intense  thought  and  close  study,  I  had 
become  somewhat  dyspeptic,  and,  consequently,  was  not 
so  buoyant  in  spirit  as  previously.  But  I  soon  found  that, 
as  the  result  of  active  exercise  and  getting  very  tire3  some 
days,  my  digestion  was  wholly  restored,  my  wonted  buoy 
ancy  returned,  my  drooping  spirits  revived,  and  I  could 
think  clearly  and  rapidly;  and  in  all  respects  I  began  to 
feel  like  a  new  creature. 

My  father's  crops  were  abundant  that  season.  Conse 
quently,  he  employed  several  hired  men;  and  in  harvest 
especially  I  was  kept  very  busy.  My  lady  readers  in  the 
country  will  appreciate  my  situation  at  this  time. 

Autumn    at   last  came.     As   William   returned   from 


96  ASP  ASIA. 

town  one  evening,  he  handed  me  a  letter.  I  opened  it, 
and,  glancing  at  the  signature,  saw  it  was  from  my  friend 
Rose  (Mrs.  Shepherd).  I  laid  it  aside  to  prepare  tea  for 
William  (for  he  had  been  out  all  day,  and  it  was  now 
quite  late).  After  he  had  taken  his  tea,  I  read  my  letter, 
which  was  as  follows  : 

"  BOSTON,  November  18,  18—. 

"MY  DEAR  ASPASIA: — It  has  been  a  long,  long  time 
since  I  have  heard  from  you ;  and  I  have  waited  until, 
by  and  with  the  advice  and  urgent  solicitations  of  my 
dear  husband,  I  have  concluded  to  write  you;  and,  as  the 
Irishman  wrote  to  a  long-absent  friend,  '  If  you're  dead, 
git  your  brother  to  answer  this  letter.'  So  I  say.  If  you 
cannot  write,  do  get  some  one  to  reply  for  you.  But, 
joking  aside,  I  wish  to  know  when  it  will  be  the  most 
convenient  for  you  to  have  me  visit  you.  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  to  do  so  early,  for  I  have  some  very  import 
ant  things  to  say  to  you,  which  I  cannot  write. 

"I  should  have  visited  you  ere  this  had  I  not  been  pre 
vented  by  circumstances  entirely  beyond  my  control;  and 
these  same  circumstances  also  prevented  my  writing ; 
and,  besides  all  this,  we  (husband  and  myself)  have  re 
ceived  a  very  precious  present  this  fall,  which  I  wish  you 
to  see,  for  I  know  you  will  appreciate  it.  I  cannot  de 
scribe  it  to  you,  and  shall  bring  it  with  me  when  I  visit 
you. 

"Mr.  Goodspeed  was  in  this  evening,  and  spent  an 
hour  very  agreeably,  although  he  is  quite  low-spirited. 
Your  last  letter  to  him  was  a  crusher,  and  I  do  think  you 
were  cruel.  But  enough  of  that  now.  I  remarked  to 
him  that  I  was  about  to  write  you;  and  he  wished  me  to 
remember  him  affectionately  to  you.  By-the-way,  he  says 
he  knows  more  of  you  than  he  thought.  He  has  met  a 


A  SPA  SI  A.  97 

lady  friend  of  his  who  says  you  are  the  lady  they  (her 
self  and  Mr.  Goodspeed)  spent  an  evening  with  at  the 
sea-side  three  summers  ago,  when  you  preached  them  a 
sermon.  And  he  said,  further,  that  he  had  never  forgotten 
it,  and  never  should;  that  previous  to  that  evening  he  had 
been  a  skeptic,  but  abandoned  his  skepticism  entirely  after 
listening  to  your  arguments. 

"  My  husband  joins  me  in  expressions  of  sincere  affec 
tion. 

"  Please  reply  to  this  at  once, 

"And  believe  me,  as  ever, 

"  Yours, 

"ROSE." 

I  had  been  so  thoroughly  occupied  in  my  new  calling 
that  I  had  almost  forgotten  my  friends.  No,  I  had  not 
forgotten  them,  but  I  had  neglected  them;  and  the  re 
ceipt  of  this  letter  brought  vividly  to  my  mind  the  rem 
iniscences  of  other  days;  the  happy  hours  spent  with 
friends,  many  of  whom  had  gone, — either  died  or  moved 
away. 

After  conferring  with  father  and  William,  it  was 
thought  best  to  write  her  to  come  at  once, — which  I  did, 
requesting  her  to  telegraph  the  morning  she  left,  and 
William  would  meet  her  at  the  depot  with  a  carriage. 

In  about  one  week  we  received  a  dispatch  that  she 
would  arrive  on  the  afternoon  train ;  and  William  met  her 
at  the  depot. 

I  was  standing  at  the  south  window  as  I  saw  them 
emerge  from  the  pine-woods;  and,  on  driving  up  to  the 
door,  I  observed  Rose  had  a  bundle  in  her  arms.  I  ran 
to  the  gate  to  welcome  her,  and  she  handed  me  her  bun 
dle,  saying,  "  Handle  it  carefully ;  it  is  the  present  I  wrote 

9 


98  A  SPAS  I  A. 

you  about."     I  took  it,  and,  lo   and  behold,  it  was  a 
bouncing  baby  boy  ! 

"  Bless  your  soul,  Rose,"  said  I,  "  is  this  yours  ?" 

"  Most  certainly  it  is,"  she  replied  ;  "  and  he  is  worth 
ten  times  his  weight  in  gold  ;  and  you  will  say  so  when 
you  come  to  see  him." 

On  going  into  the  house  I  undid  the  baby,  and,  sure 
enough,  he  was  a  noble  boy.  Said  I,  "  Rose  Shepherd, 
this  is  just  like  you.  Just  such  a  baby  as  I  should  sup 
pose  you  would  have.  A  noble  head,  fair  and  express 
ive  countenance,  fine,  clear  blue  eyes,  and  a  heart  nat 
urally  full  of  generous  impulses.  A  splendid  baby  ! 
But,"  said  I,  "come  to  your  room.  John,  bring  up  that 
trunk." 

Soon  Rose  came  down  to  the  parlor.  My  father  coming 
in  just  then,  I  introduced  him.  He  remarked  that  he  was 
very  glad  to  welcome  her,  as  she  was  a  friend  of  mine ; 
and  his  love  was  so  fervent  for  me  that  he  felt  himself 
instinctively  impelled  by  emotions  of  love  toward  my 
friends. 

Rose  thanked  him,  and  replied  that,  aside  from  her  dear 
husband,  she  had  no  friend  for  whom  she  cherished  such 
undying  love  as  for  Aspasia. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  of  Rose's  visit,  while 
sitting  at  the  parlor-fire,  talking  of  the  scenes  of  other  clays, 
of  our  experiences  at  the  seminary,  the  circumstances  of 
her  wedding,  etc. ;  said  she,  "  Aspasia,  I  wrote  you  that 
I  had  something  important  to  say  to  you ;  and  as  we  are 
now  alone,  the  baby  is  asleep,  and  the  storm  without  will 
prevent  visitors,  suppose  we  talk  it  over  now." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  proceed." — which  she  did,  as  follows: 

"  Last  March,  Mr.  Goodspeed  showed  me  the  letter  he 
had  received  from  you,  saying  that,  for  certain  reasons, 
you  thought  best  to  discontinue  the  correspondence.  J 


ASP  AS  I  A.  99 

read  the  letter,  and  confess  I  thought  it  pretty  cool,  and 
wrote  you  accordingly,  but  by  his  earnest  wish. 

"  He  asked  me  if  I  did  not  think  it  coquettish  to  jilt  a 
gentleman  after  that  style. 

" '  No,'  said  I ;  'I  know  Aspasia  too  well  for  that. 
There  is  none  of  the  coquette  about  her ;  and  that  is  the 
worst  feature  there  is  about  it:  she  is  in  real  earnest.' 

"'Well,'  he  replied,  'it  seems  as  though  I  could  not 
have  it  so.  But  I  suppose  I  must  submit,  unless  you  can 
intercede  in  my  behalf.' 

"  I  then  promised  him  that  I  would  make  you  a  visit 
and  talk  the  matter  over  with  you. 

"  You  recollect  I  wrote  that  circumstances  entirely  be 
yond  my  control  had  prevented  my  visiting  you  earlier. 
The  explanation  of  that  is  lying  snugly,  and  as  sweet  as 
an  angel,  in  that  cradle"  (pointing  to  it). 

"  Now,  then,  I  wish  you  to  reconsider  your  resolution, 
and  give  me  authority  to  invite  Mr.  Goodspeed  to  visit 
you  while  I  am  here,  and  then  you  and  he  can  agree  upon 
your  future  course.  And  I  am  free  to  give  you  my  reasons 
for  urging  this  proposition. 

"  First,  you  are  twenty  years  of  age,  and  you  certainly 
ought  not  to  defer  marriage  longer  than  sufficient  time  to 
make  due  preparations  for  the  wedding  after  a  good  offer 
is  made  you. 

"And,  second,  Mr.  Goodspeed  is  ready  at  any  time  to 
offer  you  his  hand  and  heart. 

"And,  again,  I  believe  he  will  make  you  a  devoted  hus 
band.  He  is  kind,  affable,  large-hearted,  and  full  of  sym 
pathy,  and  is,  as  you  are  aware,  very  fine-looking.  My 
husband  says  he  is  also  a  first-class  business-man,  and  is, 
pecuniarily,  quite  well  off;  so  that  you  will  never  want 
for  the  comforts,  and  even  luxuries,  of  life. 

"  Now,  then,  what  more  could  you  wish  ?   I  know  what 


100  A  SPA  SI  A. 

you  will  say.  He  is  not  a  Christian.  No;  but  I  be- 
lieve  that,  by  the  grace  of  God,  you  could  make  him 
one.  He  has  spoken  many  times  of  that  sermon  (as  he 
calls  it)  that  you  gave  him  and  his  lady  friend  at  the 
sea-side,  and  of  the  impressions  it  left  upon  his  mind ;  and 
he  says  his  life  has  been  quite  different  since,  and,  as  I 
wrote  you,  he  is  actually  growing  melancholy  and  sad. 
He  has  called  at  our  house  as  often  as  every  other  day,  to 
learn  when  I  should  visit  you,  and,  when  I  left  home,  he 
remarked  that  he  should  be  quite  impatient  to  hear  from 
me,  as  I  promised  to  write  him  after  conferring  with  you." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  Rose,  you  will  beat  the  lawyers  in 
special  pleading.  With  such  an  advocate,  Mr.  Goodspeed 
most  certainly  ought  to  succeed;  and  I  don't  know  but  he 
may.  But  I  cannot  decide  to-day;  and  I  tell  you  what  I 
wish  you  to  do.  I  will  call  father  in  this  evening  after 
tea,  and  you  speak  your  piece  to  him,  and  see  what  he 
says.  I  will  then  talk  with  him  about  it,  and  let  you  know 
the  result." 

Evening  came,  and,  after  tea,  we  all  repaired  to  the 
parlor,  except  brother  William,  who  had  to  attend  a  meet 
ing  of  the  town  officers  that  evening,  as  he  was  a  member 
of  the  board. 

Being  seated  around  the  fire,  I  reminded  father  of  my 
correspondence,  while  in  the  seminary  (which  he  was 
then  aware  of),  with  a  Mr.  Goodspeed,  a  gentleman  I 
met  at  Mrs.  Shepherd's  wedding,  and  that  some  time  pre 
vious  to  my  leaving  the  seminary  I  caused  a  suspension 
of  hostilities,  for  the  reason  that  my  mind  was  thoroughly 
occupied  with  my  studies,  and,  moreover,  I  was  about  to 
come  home  and  stay  with  him  (my  father). 

"  Now,  Mr.  Goodspeed  is  a  friend  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Shepherd,  and  Mrs.  Shepherd  has  been  making  a  forcible 
plea  to  me  to  invite  Mr.  Goodspeed  here  at  once  while  she 


ASP  AS  FA.  101 

is  with  us,  and  I  told  her  that  she  might  speak  her  piece 
to  you  this  evening,  and  see  what  you  would  say  to  it. 
So,  Rose,  you  may  proceed." 

She  then  repeated  the  same  to  father  she  had  said  to 
me,  word  for  word,  as  though  she  had  learned  it  by  heart, 

After  listening  to  her  earnestly,  father  leaned  forward, 
resting  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  with  his  head  in  his  hands, 
and  appeared  to  be  in  deep  thought  for  several  moments; 
and  finally,  wiping  the  tears  from  his  eyes,  and  turning 
toward  me,  said  he,  "Aspasia,  I  don't  know  how  I  can 
live  without  you ;  but  possibly  I  may  not  live  long  any 
way,  and  I  think,  on  the  whole,  ytm  had  better  let  Mrs. 
Shepherd  send  for  him  to  come  here.  I  can  tell  in  a  very 
short  time  whether  it  will  be  worth  his  while  to  come 
more  than  once." 

Accordingly,  I  consented,  and  Rose  called  for  writing- 
materials,  which  father  brought,  and  she  hastily  wrote  a 
brief  note,  and  had  it  ready  for  the  post  in  the  morning. 

About  this  time  brother  William  returned  from  town; 
and,  after  discussing  the  news  brought  home  by  him, — it 
getting  late, — we  all  retired  for  the  night. 


9* 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"Whence  holiness  of  will  derives  its  birth, 
Whence  piety  and  faith  illumine  earth, 
'Gainst  men  ungrateful,  of  false  virtue  vain, 
I  sing;  a  thousand  verses  form  the  strain. 
If,  reader,  to  such  knowledge  you  aspire, 
Search  here,  and  gratify  your  good  desire. 
From  frantic  errors  safe,  the  growth  of  pride; 
These,  if  you  study  well,  will  be  your  guide; 
Nor  will  you  dare  against  the  God  of  grace 
Rebellious  human  liberty  to  place. 
Nor  will  you  any  of  his  gifts  disown; 
Nor  think  you  merit,  but  by  Him  alone; 
Whate'er  is  good  in  you,  you  here  will  trace, 
Not  as  the  cause,  but  the  effect,  of  grace." 

IN  a  few  days  we  had  the  pleasure  of  welcoming  Mr. 
Goodspecd  at  our  house. 

Mrs.  Shepherd  took  him  aside  privily,  soon  after  his 
arrival  (as  she  afterward  informed  me),  and  told  him  to  be 
sure  and  get  on  the  right  side  of  my  father,  and  he  would 
be  all  right ;  for  if  my  father  advised  me  to  marry  him 
I  would  do  so. 

Thus  being  placed  upon  his  guard  at  the  very  outset  of 
the  conflict,  he  would  have  been  a  dull  soldier  had  he 
failed  in  taking  the  castle. 

A  day  or  two  after  his  arrival,  father  and  William  both 
spent  the  day  in  the  house,  on  account  of  a  severe  De 
cember  storm. 

William  was  occupied  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in 
posting  his  account-books ;  for  he  attended  to  his  book- 
(102) 


A  SPA  SI  A.  103 

keeping  entirely  of  evenings  and  stormy  days.  The  rest 
of  us  were  in  the  parlor.  The  storm  was  raging  furiously 
without,  and  we  were  all  cosily  seated  around  a  comfort 
able  fire. 

The  circumstances  were  such  as  to  call  forth  the  exer 
cise  of  our  social  powers  and  cause  us  all  to  throw  off 
reserve  ;  and  the  result  was  a  lively  and  interesting  con 
versation  during  nearly  the  entire  day. 

I  have  observed,  in  my  experience,  that  at  certain  times 
and  under  peculiar  circumstances  it  is  very  much  easier 
to  approach  strangers  and  draw  them  out  in  conversation, 
than  at  other  times. 

A  stormy  day  is  one. 

Waiting  at  a  depot  in  the  night  for  a  train  that  is  past 
due  is  another. 

I  well  remember  going  to  the  depot  one  stormy  even 
ing  to  meet  some  friends  expected  on  the  train.  A 
gentleman  passed  me  repeatedly,  in  a  nervous,  restless 
manner.  At  last,  approaching  me,  he  remarked,  "  Train 
is  behind  time;  I  fear  some  accident  may  have  hap 
pened.  Are  you  expecting  friends?"  I  replied,  "Yes," 
and  inquired  if  he  was.  He  said,  "  Yes, — my  wife  and 
child;  and  I  fear  something  has  happened  to  the  train.'7 
He  then  entered  into  conversation  as  freely  as  though 
we  were  familiar  acquaintances.  At  last  I  ventured  to 
inquire  his  name,  and  was  greatly  surprised  to  learn  that 

it  was  the  Hon. ,  who  was  celebrated  inure  than  any 

thing  else  for  his  reserve  and  dignity,  and  was  rarely 
ever  seen  stooping  so  low  as  to  converse  with  anyone 
less  than  a  governor  or  a  jud<re. 

1 5ut  the  truth  was,  he  was  one  of  that  class  whose 
whole  life  was  counterfeit.  Such  do  not  live  their  own 
natures  at  all.  lie  was  naturally  courteous  and  genial; 
and  the  circumstances  under  which  I  met  him  were  those 


104  A  SPA  SI  A. 

calculated  to  develop  his  real  character.  He  was  antici 
pating  trouble,  fearing  an  accident  had  happened  to  the 
train,  and  that  his  dear  wife  and  child  were  injured ;  and, 
finding- 1  was  also  expecting  friends  by  the  same  train, 
he  quite  likely  said  to  himself,  "Now  I  can  find  sympa 
thy  :"  he  therefore  at  once  and  without  reserve  threw 
off  his  mask,  and  played  the  original  part  assigned  by 
Nature. 

On  board  a  vessel  during  a  storm  is  another  occasion 
for  developing  the  genial  qualities  of  humanity. 

I  have  experienced  such ;  and  it  is  really  amusing  to 
see  how  affable  persons  become  under  such  circum 
stances,  who  but  an  hour  previous  were  haughty  and 
self-opinionated, — even  disgustingly  so. 

But  to  return  to  our  subject.  The  conversation  com 
menced  by  Mr.  Goodspeed  relating  a  few  incidents  which 
happened  on  the  train  he  came  on,  and  which  were  re 
ferred  to  by  him  to  sustain  his  theory  that  a  railroad-car 
was  the  best  place  in  the  world  in  which  to  study  human 
nature.  He  said  that  during  the  day  two  women  came 
into  the  car,  every  seat  was  fully  occupied,  and  they 
were  compelled  to  stand,  until  he  suggested  to  the  gen 
tleman  who  sat  beside  him  that  they  give  the  ladies  their 
seats,  which  was  agreed  to,  whereupon  they  took  posses 
sion  at  once,  but  without  the  least  acknowledgments 
for  the  favor.  The  two  gentlemen  were  compelled  to 
stand  for  a  whole  hour.  At  last,  arriving  at  their  sta 
tions,  the  women  left  the  seats  and  hastened  to  the  door. 
Just  as  they  were  stepping  upon  the  platform,  he  cried 
out  to  them,  "  Ladies,  you  have  forgotten  something." 
They  both  ran  back  to  the  seat  hurriedly,  and  inquired 
what  they  had  left.  He  replied,  "You  forgot  to  thank 
us  for  your  seats,  as  ladies  should."  They  sneaked  out 
of  the  car  amid  a  roar  of  laughter  from  all  the  passengers. 


ASPASIA.  105 

My  father  remarked  that  he  had  traveled  by  railway 
considerable,  and  had  himself  thought  it  a  good  place  to 
study  human  nature,  until  he  was  led  to  criticise  his  own 
acts,  when  he  found  that  the  selfish  principle  in  his  nature 
was  much  more  largely  developed  while  traveling  than 
while  at  home.  He  was  therefore  compelled  to  entertain 
charitable  feelings  toward  others. 

I  remarked  that,  so  far  as  my  experience  went,  I 
thought  there  was  more  truth  than  poetry  in  the  aphor 
ism,  "  This  world  is  all  a  cattle-show."  "And  so  it  is,"  I 
went  on.  "As  the  farmer  takes  only  his  best  cattle  to  the 
fair,  so  with  people  on  exhibition  or  away  from  home: 
while  under  restraint  they  only  exhibit  the  best  traits  in 
their  character. 

"  It  is  also  said  that  All  the  world's  a  stage. 

"  The  question  is,  What  kind  of  a  stage  ?  Is  it  a  coach, 
using  the  compound  term  stage-coach,  with  a  Jehu  for  a 
driver?  If  so,  it  is  surely  correct;  for  I  believe  there 
never  was  an  era  in  the  history  of  man  when  all  the  pro 
pelling  forces,  mental  and  physical,  were  so  thoroughly 
taxed  as  now. 

"  It  may  be  that  a  theater,  or  the  stage  in  a  theater,  is 
meant  by  the  expression.  If  so,  it  is  correct;  for  in 
everyday  life  we  see  all  the  actors  in  appropriate  cos 
tume,  each  in  turn  performing  his  part. 

"We  see  the  truly  sincere  and  devout  man,  who  has 
the  least  possible  amount  of  selfishness,  living  for  the 
good  of  others,  controlled  in  his  whole  life  by  the  golden 
rule  of  God. 

"  We  see  the  sanctimonious  hypocrite  occupying  one  of 
the  most  expensive  pews  in  the  church,  always  laying  his 
head  forward  reverently  during  prayers,  and  on  the  fol 
lowing  Monday  early  fastening  his  claws,  by  a  legal  pro 
cess,  upon  some  poor  unfortunate  who  is  (in  consequence 
of  adversity)  in  arrears  for  one  month's  rent. 


106  A  SPA  SI  A. 

"We  see  the  genial-faced  gentleman,  who  is  reputed  as 
one  of  the  most  liberal  men  in  the  town ;  but  his  part  is 
simply  to  be  so  while  upon  the  stage,  and  he  never  plays 
unless  before  a  good  audience.  He  is  sure  never  to  give, 
except  in  a  manner  to  have  it  known.  If  he  is  in  church, 
and  'the  box  is  passed  around,'  unlike  other  men,  he 
has  no  money  with  him,  which  without  ostentation  he 
could  give.  No :  he  must  call  for  a  paper  and  pencil  and 
write  down  his  donation,  with  an  order  to  call  at  his 
office  and  collect.  He  makes  money  by  his  reputation. 

"  The  scene  changes.  Here  comes  the  Jew,  with  his 
blue  cotton  umbrella  under  his  arm,  eager  to  light  upon 
a  Gentile  customer,  and,  with  a  hellish  grin,  exhibits 
the  liveliest  emotion  if  his  customer  happens  to  be  some 
unfortunate  one  whose  home  is  mortgaged  and  time  of 
redemption  just  about  expired,  and  is  willing  to  sacrifice 
the  earnings  of  years  of  hard,  honest  toil  to  save  a  little, 
even,  for  his  wife  and  children. 

"Here  comes  the  foppish  gentleman,  whose  mustache 
is  twisted  into  two  elegant  little  pig-tails,  pointing  each 
way,  as  much  as  to  say, '  If  you  are  looking  for  brains,  go 
somewhere  else.'  He  struts,  bows,  and  scrapes  like  a 
turkey-gobbler  in  spring-time.  This  chap  never  receives 
an  encore. 

"In  striking  contrast  to  the  last  actor,  here  comes  the 
graceful,  unaffected,  urbane  gentleman,  whose  very  pres 
ence  sends  a  thrill  of  joy  through  you, — that  you  have 
found  a  man. 

"Then  comes  the  plain,  matter-of-fact  man,  using  no 
satire,  but  dealing  with  the  naked  truth.  Sanguine  he 
may  be,  and,  if  so,  frequently  wounding  the  heart  of 
many  a  friend,  but  also  causing  himself,  at  times,  deep 
grief ;  yet,  if  lymphatic,  he  accomplishes  really  less  good 
to  society. 


ASP  ASIA.  107 

"  Then  here  comes  the  buffoon.  We  find  him  in  the 
pulpit,  on  the  forum,  at  the  bar,  behind  the  counter,  among 
our  law-makers ;  wherever  we  go  we  find  some  one  who 
feels  it  incumbent  upon  himself  to  play  the  part  of  the 
'  king's  fool.' 

"And  last,  but  by  no  means  the  least,  we  have  the 
sponge  ;  the  most  despicable  part  in  the  play.  In  study 
ing  the  plot  carefully,  one  would  suppose  that  few  could 
be  found  to  play  so  mean  a  part ;  but  it  is  quite  the  re 
verse,  and  performers  in  it  are  never  wanting.  Always 
absorbing  and  never  giving  ;  and  as  the  marine  substance 
of  that  name  varies  in  form,  size,  and  color,  and  some  are 
more  porous  than  others,  so  with  the  men — yes,  and  the 
women  also — who  play  the  sponge  on  the  stage  of  life. 
They  exhibit  all  those  varieties ;  and  it  is  also  their  mis 
fortune  that,  however  well  they  play  their  parts,  they  are 
universally  despised  by  all  the  other  actors  on  the  stage. 

"And  thus  I  might  go  on  ad  infinitum,  and  call  up  the 
actors  in  this  drama  of  life,  had  I  time." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Goodspeed,  "  will  you  please  assign 
me  my  part  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  replied.  "  You  have  made,  or,  if  not 
already,  you  will  make,  your  own  selection." 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  in  your  opinion,  which  part  am  I  the 
best  adapted  for  ?" 

I  begged  he  would  excuse  me,  for  I  abhorred  flattery, 
and  did  not  wish  to  misjudge  him,  and,  with  his  permis 
sion,  I  would  withhold  my  answer  until  some  future  time  ; 
to  which  he  consented.  He  then  entered  into  conversa 
tion  with  my  father  upon  politics,  business,  etc.,  in  which 
I  took  comparatively  little  interest. 

I  observed  one  thing,  however,  that  he  seemed  to  agree 
with  my  father  upon  all  points  of  any  importance  ;  lie; 
was  particular  not  to  commit  himself  on  any  proposition 


108  ASP  AS  I  A. 

until  he  was  well  satisfied  how  my  father  stood  upon  that 
point. 

And  he  played  his  part  well,  as  the  sequel  will  prove. 

After  our  visitors  had  retired  for  the  night,  and  my 
father  and  myself  were  sitting  by  the  fire,  waiting 
for  the  soapstone  to  heat  (for  I  did  not  retire  any  night 
without  first  seeing  him  comfortably  "  tucked  up"  in 
bed),  we  sat  in  silence  several  moments.  At  last  father 
broke  the  spell,  and  said  he,  "Aspasia,  I  guess  you  had 
better  make  up  your  mind  to  marry  Mr.  Goodspeed ;  he 
appears  like  a  very  fine  gentleman,  well  informed,  says  he 
is  quite  wealthy,  is  good-looking,  and  seems  to  be  a  very 
moral  man.  I  wish  he  was  a  Christian  ;  but  I  think  he  is 
that  sort  of  a  man  that  if  you  marry  him  and  are  faith 
ful  he  will  become  one  ;  and,  if  he  should,  he  will  do  a 
great  deal  of  good.  And  surely  you  will  not  have  to 
work  at  all,  according  to  what  he  and  Mrs.  Shepherd  say. 
And  there  is  Elizabeth, — true,  she  has  a  first-rate  hus 
band,  none  better  in  the  world  ;  but  then  she  complains, 
you  know,  because  she  has  to  work  so  hard  about  the 
house;  her  husband  can't  afford  to  keep  two  girls;  and  if 
you  can  marry  a  man  with  a  fortune  you  had  better  do 
so." 

"  Father,"  said  I,  "  I  should  be  the  most  miserable 
creature  on  earth  if  I  had  nothing  to  do.  Were  I  to 
marry  a  man  as  rich  as  Croesus,  I  should  work.  For,  in 
the  first  place,  it  is  a  part  of  my  religion  ;  it  was  a  com 
mand  that  God  gave  to  man,  and  made  it  imperative ;  and 
laziness  I  believe  a  sin.  And  as  for  sister  Elizabeth, — 
true,  she  is  not  lazy,  but  she  is  very  petulant  and  fault 
finding:  her  husband's  row  is  the  hardest  to  hoe.  If 
you  think  best,  I  will  say  to  Mr.  Goodspeed  to-morrow, 
before  he  leaves  for  Boston,  that  he  may  resume  the  cor 
respondence,  and  when  I  get  time  I  can  marry  him  or 


ASP  ASIA.  109 

not,  as  I  please.     I  sha'n't  marry  any  one  this  winter  : 
that's  certain." 

With  this,  father  trudged  off  to  bed,  and,  after  seeing 
him  snugly  ensconced,  I  retired  for  the  night. 

Morning  dawned.  We  arose  early,  as  Mr.  Goodspeed 
wished  to  return  by  the  first  train,  and  Mrs.  Shepherd 
had  concluded  to  return  with  him.  We  had  breakfast 
early;  and,  while  waiting  for  William  to  come  with  the 
sleigh,  I  said  to  Mr,  Goodspeed  that  I  should  be  pleased 
to  resume  our  correspondence,  and  hoped  to  hear  from 
him  often,  and  should  take  great  pleasure  in  reading  and 
answering  his  letters. 

And  I  must  say  that,  judging  from  his  looks  and  ap 
pearance,  I  never  was  conscious  of  contributing  so  much 
happiness  to  a  person  in  so  short  a  time,  and  in  so  few 
words,  as  then.  He  laughed  all  over,  and,  quick  as  thought, 
"  by  your  permission,"  planted  a  kiss  on  my  cheek;  and, 
thanking  me  kindly,  he  remarked  "  that,  although  yester 
day  was  a  stormy,  dreary  day,  yet  it  was  the  happiest  day 
of  his  life,  except  this  day." 

In  a  few  moments  brother  William  came,  and  I  saw 
them  snugly  stowed  away  in  the  sleigh ;  and,  with  a 
hearty  good-by,  they  went  whirling  down  the  road.  I 
watched  them  into  the  pine  woods,  and  went  about  my 
morning's  work. 

Winter  passed  away,  with  nothing  of  very  great  im 
portance  occurring  in  which  I  was  particularly  interested, 
except  that  sister  Kate  brought  her  husband  a  beautiful 
bouncing  boy.     Mr.  Shaw  took  it,  as  he  did  all  his  hi 
ings,  as  providential. 

It  would  be  uninteresting  to  detail  the  correspondence 
that  passed  between  Mr.  Goodspeed  and  myself  that 
winter  and  the  spring  and  summer  following. 

The  next  season  was  very  dry  and  warm,  so  that  my 
10 


110  ASPASIA. 

father's  crops  were  cut  off  by  the  drought,  as  were  the 
crops  of  all  the  neighboring  farmers. 

In  the  autumn  a  meeting  was  called  at  the  town- 
house  in  the  village,  to  see  what  plan  could  be  devised 
to  procure  grain  for  the  farmers  to  use  during  the  winter; 
and  the  result  of  the  meeting  was,  the  contribution  of 
from  two  to  five  hundred  dollars  each,  by  some  fifty 
farmers,  into  a  common  fund,  and  the  appointment  of 
brother  William  as  their  agent  to  take  this  money  and 
proceed  West,  and  purchase  and  ship  home  flour  and  corn, 
which  should  be  apportioned  to  each  contributor  accord 
ing  to  the  amount  so  paid  in  by  him. 

Accordingly,  I  made  ready  William's  clothes;  and,  as 
soon  as  he  could  arrange  his  business,  he  left  for 
Chicago. 

It  reminded  me  of  good  old  Israel  sending  down  into 
Egypt  after  corn,  under  the  same  circumstances:  the 
dry  weather  had  cut  off  his  crops  also.  About  the  only 
difference  between  the  two  cases  was,  that  in  the  first 
the  farmers  all  went,  while  in  this  they  sent  an  agent. 
But,  as  William  left  the  house  with  father,  I  could  but 
remember  those  mournful  words  of  Jacob,  "  I  shall  see 
his  face  no  more. " 

All  of  the  fifty  farmers  who  sent  him  were  at  the  cars 
to  see  him  safely  off. 

Mr.  Shaw  was  also  there;  and,  as  the  cars  started, 
father  said  he  heard  him  say,  "May  the  Lord  bless  him 
and  return  him  safe!"  Then,  turning  to  father,  he  re 
marked,  "  It's  dangerous  traveling,  now,  by  rail,  so 
many  accidents  are  happening;  but  I  hope  he  may  have 
a  safe  trip."  Father  said  it  was  spoken  in  such  a  man 
ner,  and  came  so  unexpectedly,  that  it  disturbed  him  a 
good  deal. 

We  anxiously  awaited   letters,  and  were  rejoiced  to 


ASPASIA.  Ill 

learn  of  William's  safe  arrival  at  Chicago.  And  that  he 
in  due  time  completed  his  purchases  satisfactorily,  and 
informed  us,  by  letter,  that  he  should  leave  for  home  on 
a  certain  day  and  by  a  certain  route. 

He  left  as  he  had  stated;  and  all  went  well  until  the 
second  day.  While  the  cars  were  running-  at  a  fearful 
speed  (endeavoring  to  make  up  lost  time),  just  as  they 
came  on  to  a  high  bridge,  the  train  was  thrown  from  the 
track  by  a  broken  rail,  and  precipitated  into  the  chasm 
below ;  and  the  cars,  taking  fire,  were  all  burned,  several 
passengers  were  killed  outright  by  the  fall,  and  others 
dreadfully  mangled,  and  many  burnt  to  death. 

We  learned  of  the  accident  the  next  day  after  its  occur 
rence  ;  and  father  and  I  rode  to  the  village  to  see  what 
people  thought  about  brother  William's  being  on  that 
train.  Several  letters  were  produced  by  different  persons, 
stating  that  he  should  leave  Chicago  by  that  route  and 
upon  such  a  day  ;  and  the  presumption  was  that  he  was 
on  board  of  the  ill-fated  train.  For  he  was  known  to  be 
a  man  who  always  did  just  what  he  said  he  would.  If  he 
made  an  appointment  to  meet  a  person  at  a  certain  place 
or  hour,  he  always  fulfilled  the  appointment. 

My  father,  in  his  deep  anxiety  that  night,  could  not 
sleep,  and  neither  could  I ;  but  I  dared  not  let  him  know 
that  I  was  in  the  least  apprehensive  that  evil  had  hap 
pened  to  William. 

My  room  adjoined  that  of  my  father;  and  I  could  hear 
him  cry  out,  in  the  night,  "0  God,  spare  me  the  deep 
affliction  which  I  fear."  And,  after  turning  himself  re 
peatedly  in  bed,  I  would  hear  him  say,  "  0  Lord,  if  in  thy 
wisdom  thou  hast  ordained  that  my  dear  son  shall  have 
perished,  do  thou  in  infinite  mercy  strengthen  me  to  bear 
up  under  it,  that  I  may  have  grace  given  me.  Thy  will, 
O  Lord,  and  not  mine,  be  done." 


112  ASPASIA. 

The  next  day,  at  about  eleven  o'clock  A.M.,  a  mes 
senger  from  town  brought  a  telegram  to  father.  He 
opened  it,  and  it  read  as  follows : 

" ,  December  3,  18—. 

"  EDWARD  HORTON, 

"Dreadful  railroad  accident;  cars  thrown  off  the 
bridge  ;  eighty  persons  killed,  and  one  hundred  injured. 
We  have  one  body  of  a  man  killed,  but  not  burned.  In 
the  coat-pocket  are  papers  bearing  your  name,  being 
letters  addressed  to  William  Horton,  Chicago;  also  grain 
and  flour  receipts,  made  to  William  Horton.  Also,  we 
have  a  satchel  with  his  name  on.  We  will  express  the 
body  to  you  on  receipt  of  your  order  by  telegraph. 

" ,  Gen'l  Sup't." 

It  seemed  as  though  my  father  would  sink  into  the 
ground  ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  his  true  Christian  forti 
tude  he  could  not  have  endured  the  stroke. 

But,  like  one  of  old,  he  exclaimed,  "  The  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name  of 
the  Lord."  And,  turning  to  me,  said  he,  "Aspasia,  we 
mourn  not  as  those  who  have  no  hope.  I  shall  soon  go 
up  yonder  and  meet  him." 

A  message  was  at  once  sent  to  have  the  corpse  of  my 
dear  brother  forwarded  by  express,  as  suggested. 


CHAPTER   X. 

"  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness." 

MY  father  received  a  telegram  from  the  superintendent, 
to  the  effect  that  the  corpse  of  my  brother  William  would 
arrive  at  three  o'clock  P.M.  on  Saturday. 

At  that  time  we  were  at  the  depot,  with  hosts  of  sym 
pathizing  friends. 

John  and  James  and  their  families,  Kate  and  Eliza 
beth  and  their  husbands,  were  all  with  us ;  and,  as  soon 
as  the  coffin  was  placed  in  the  hearse,  the  church-bell  com 
menced  tolling,  and  continued  until  the  procession  arrived 
at  the  church  where  the  funeral  ceremonies  were  per 
formed. 

There  were  a  great  many  people  present.  Mr.  Shaw 
was  so  deeply  affected  by  the  sudden  bereavement  that  he 
could  not  officiate ;  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Clark,  pastor  of  the 
Baptist  church,  kindly  offered  his  services;  and  they  were 
intensely  solemn  and  impressive. 

He  dwelt  at  length  upon  the  great  loss  the  community 
had  sustained  by  this  sudden  death ;  that  the  deceased 
was  a  young  man  of  strict  integrity,  of  remarkable  judg 
ment,  an  enterprising  and  public-spirited  man,  and, 
withal,  a  devoted  and  active  Christian ;  and  both  the 
church  and  community  had  suffered  an  irreparable  loss, 
and  it  was  fitting  that  so  large  a  congregation  had  assem 
bled  to  express  their  sympathy  for  the  relatives  of  the 
deceased,  and  particularly  for  the  grief-stricken  father; 
and  also  that  they  could,  by  thus  bending  around  the  bier, 

10*  (113) 


114  A  SPA  SI  A. 

find  a  momentary  relief  in  shedding  tears  of  sorrow  over 
the  remains  of  one  so  universally  beloved. 

A  quartette  choir  stood  at  the  head  of  the  coffin,  in  front 
of  the  pulpit,  and  sang  a  funeral  hymn ;  and  I  thought  I 
had  never  heard  them  sing  so  well.  I  afterward  remarked 
to  father  that  it  seemed  to  me  as  though  William's  spirit 
was  aiding  them;  for  he  was  a  very  fine  musician,  and  I 
certainly  never  heard  that  choir  sing  so  sweetly  and  in 
such  perfect  tune. 

We  were  all  broken  down  by  this  terrible  affliction;  but 
I  dared  not  exhibit  my  emotions  of  sorrow  in  presence  of 
my  father,  for  it  seemed  as  though  he  was  completely 
crushed  by  'his  deep  grief.  And  when,  before  God,  at  the 
family  altar,  he  prayed  that  "this  deep  affliction  might  be 
sanctified  to  himself  and  his  remaining  children  for  their 
spiritual  and  everlasting  good,"  the  throbbings  of  his 
heart  choked  his  utterance,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  The 
Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ;  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord."  Then  it  was  that  I  could  fully  real 
ize  the  strength  and  power  of  the  Christian's  faith. 

Time  passed  on,  and  my  father's  health  seemed  to  fail. 
He  mourned  for  William's  death  more  as  a  child  would  at 
the  loss  of  a  parent  in  whom  he  trusted,  than  as  a  parent 
who  had  lost  a  child. 

For  my  father  was  growing  old,  and  not  so  vigorous  as 
formerly,  and  he  looked  forward  with  no  little  anxiety  to 
the  time  when  he  should  become  (if  he  lived)  helpless,  and, 
to  use  his  own  expression,  useless,  and  would  then  be 
dependent  upon  William  ;  that  all  his  hopes  for  the  future 
of  this  life  centered  in  him. 

It  was  a  cold,  dreary,  and  sad  winter  with  us. 

"  Lone  minstrel  of  the  pensive  lyre, 

Oh,  let  not  grief  attune  thy  lay  ; 
For  sadness  blights  each  holier  fire, 
And  scatters  gloom  o'er  all  the  way." 


ASPASIA.  115 

After  the  extreme  cold  of  winter  had  passed,  I  per 
suaded  father  to  accompany  me  on  a  visit  to  sister  Eliza 
beth,  where  we  spent  two  weeks,  but  not  very  pleasantly ; 
for  I  regret  to  say  that  Elizabeth,  unlike  any  other  mem 
ber  of  our  family,  was  petulant  and  cross.  She  had  a 
little  boy,  about  a  year  and  a  half  old,  as  bright  and 
pretty  a  little  fellow  as  I  ever  saw ;  and  she  would  fly  into 
a  passion  and  cuff  the  "little  brat"  twenty  times  a  day. 
She  had  a  boy,  of  about  ten  years  of  age,  that  she  took  to 
bring-  up;  and  I  thought  he  had  a  good  deal  better  have 
never  come  up  at  all  than  to  be  "  brought  up"  in  her  way. 
But  she  said  she  was  going  to  learn  him  to  "  bear  the 
yoke  in  his  youth." 

I  really  pitied  her  husband.  He  was  a  gentleman  of 
superior  business  abilities,  of  very  fine  talents  for  public 
speaking;  but  she  would  never  permit  him  to  make  a 
speech,  or  accept  an  office  of  honor  and  trust,  either  in 
town  or  church,  if  she  could  prevent  it ;  she  said  "  she 
didn't  like  to  see  people  put  themselves  forward ;"  and  al 
though  her  husband  had  sufficient  independence  and  self- 
respect  not  to  conform  to  all  of  her  foolish  and  wicked 
caprices,  yet  it  was  a  very  great  annoyance  and  affliction 
to  him,  and  also  a  great  hindrance  to  his  usefulness. 

On  his  return  home  from  the  labors  of  the  day,  his 
brain  racked  till  he  was  well-nigh  exhausted,  wearied  and 
careworn,  when  of  all  times  he  needed,  and  ought  to  have 
received,  the  cordial  sympathies  of  an  affectionate  wife, 
she  would  be  more  likely  to  meet  him  with  a  reprehend 
than  otherwise;  and  although  he  would  generally  pay  no 
attention  to  her,  and  appear  not  to  hear  her  at  all,  and, 
catching  up  his  precious  little  boy,  play  with  him,  yet 
occasionally  he  would  lose  his  patience, — and  then,  my 
hnly,  look  out ;  the  fur  would  fly  for  a  few  moments  ;  then 
all  would  be  as  still  as  it  usually  is  immediately  succeed- 


116  ASP  ASIA. 

ing  a  violent  storm,  and  for  a  few  days  all  was  serene  and 
lovely. 

Just  before  leaving  for  home,  I  ventured  to  read  my 
sister  a  short  lecture,  and  one  which  she  did  not  alto 
gether  relish.  Still,  1  felt  it  my  duty ;  but,  alas !  she  did 
not  heed  it ;  and  she  was  compelled  to  mourn  in  sack 
cloth  and  ashes  in  after-years  ;  for  her  husband  died, 
leaving  her  poor,  with  children  ;  and  the  neighbors,  well 
knowing  her  treatment  of  him,  did  not  manifest  that  re 
gard  and  sympathy  for  her  they  otherwise  would  have 
done.  And  I  have  heard  her  many  times  utter  deep 
regrets  at  the  errors  and  follies  of  her  married  life. 

Spring  came,  and  Mr.  Goodspeed  began  to  grow  im 
patient  to  be  married ;  but  I  was  not  yet  ready.  I,  one 
day,  while  conversing  with  father,  remarked  to  him  that 
I  was  not  sure  I  really  loved  Mr.  Goodspeed.  I  could 
not  but  feel  as  though  there  was  something  wrong  with 
him.  A  casual  acquaintance  would  not  reveal  anything 
wrong ;  but  I  thought  I  could  detect  a  certain  sort  of 
something  which  I  could  not  explain,  which  led  me  to 
fear  he  was  not  so  good  at  heart  as  he  would  have  me 
believe.  My  father  inquired  what  indications  I  had  to 
suspect  that  he  was  not  honest.  I  replied,  I  could  not 
tell ;  yet  such  impressions  had  been  fastening  themselves 
upon  my  mind  from  time  to  time,  and  I  could  not  give 
any  reasons  that  would  be  satisfactory  to  any  one, — and, 
indeed,  none  whatever,  except  that  an  occasional  un 
guarded  expression  in  his  conversation  and  his  letters, 
and  the  general  tone  and  spirit  which  seemed  to  under 
lie  his  whole  life,  had  fastened  the  conviction  on  my 
mind  that  the  substratum  of  his  character  was  exceed 
ingly  porous,  and  that  it  needed  to  be  broken  up  by  the 
plowshare  of  grace  before  much  real  good  could  be  ex 
pected  from  him. 


ASPASIA.  117 

I  have  heard  my  father  say  that  when  he  went  to 
look  up  land  with  a  view  of  purchasing,  if  he  found 
brakes  and  wintergreens  growing,  even  but  occasionally, 
among  the  grass,  although  by  an  extra  dressing  of  some 
fertilizer  the  grass  should  appear  plentiful,  yet  he  would 
know  the  soil  was  wet  and  cold,  and  would  require  con 
stant  stimulating  in  order  to  produce  a  crop. 

So  also,  when  he  found  the  sorrel  and  certain  other 
weeds,  he  knew  that  the  ground  of  itself  was  dry  and 
barren,  and  could  only  be  induced  to  yield  a  crop  by 
tickling  or  teasing. 

Experience  teaches  me  that  there  is  great  similarity 
between  the  nature  of  mind  and  the  nature  of  soil. 
There  are  fields  which,  of  their  own  accord,  will  pro 
duce  abundant  crops  of  luxuriant  grass  every  year, 
entirely  free  of  noxious  weeds.  So  there  are  hearts  that 
are  constantly  full  of  holy  emotions,  and  develop  by 
every  look  and  act  the  highest  degree  of  virtue  and 
moral  honesty. 

As  my  father  returned  from  the  village  one  day  in 
the  early  part  of  June,  I  observed  an  appearance  of 
melancholy  that  was  unusual,  and  inquired  the  cause. 

Seating  himself  in  his  arm-chair,  he  sat  silent  for  some 
moments.  At  length  he  addressed  me. 

"Aspasia,  we  are  ruined." 

"  How  is  that,  father?"  said  I. 

He  replied,  "  You  remember  that  a  few  days  after  your 
mother's  funeral  Mr.  Wm.  G.  Hoxey  came  here  to  see 
me." 

"Yes,"  said  I;  "and  I  remember  how  full  of  sympathy 
he  appeared  to  be;  and  I  thought  then  it  was  put  on.  I 
didn't  believe  it  was  genuine,  but  that  he  was  actuated 
from  selfish  motives.  Well,  what  of  him?" 

"  Your  suspicions  were   correct.      But  it  is  a  very 


118  ASPASIA. 

great  pity  that  you  did  not  put  me  on  my  guard;  for 
somehow  it  seems  as  though  Providence  has  endowed 
you  with  more  common  sense  and  sagacity  than  all  the 
rest  of  the  family. 

"  Well,  after  he  had  commiserated  me  on  account  of 
my  deep  affliction,  he  said  he  was  also  in  trouble  which 
caused  him  deep  distress ;  but,  unlike  my  affliction, 
which  no  earthly  friend  could  alleviate,  his  could  be. 
I  inquired  what  it  was.  He  said  he  had  become  involved 
through  some  speculations,  and  his  home  was  mortgaged 
to  secure  his  creditors,  and  the  time  of  redemption  had 
about  expired,  and  if  sold  would  reduce  himself  and 
family  to  extreme  poverty ;  and  he  desired  to  negotiate  a 
loan  of  twenty  thousand  dollars  for  two  years  and  a 
half,  and  in  that  time  he  could  pay  it;  and  that  if  Mr. 
Geo.  B.  Scott  and  myself  would  indorse  the  notes  for 
him  he  could  get  the  money  ;  and  that  he  had  seen 
Mr.  Scott,  and  he  agreed  to  sign  if  I  would.  Without 
much  reflection,  I  signed  them.  He  then  went  to  Es 
quire  Scott  and  obtained  his  signature.  And  now,  as 
you  are  aware,  Mr.  Scott  is  dead,  his  estate  is  declared 
insolvent,  Hoxey  has  failed,  and  the  notes  are  past 
due,  and  not  a  dollar  has  been  paid,  even  the  interest. 
And  to-day  I  have  been  sued  for  twenty-eight  thousand 
dollars;  and  it  will  take  every  dollar  of  property  and 
money  I  have,  and  then  not  more  than  two-thirds  pay 
the  debt.  O  Lord,  have  mercy  on  us.  Oh  that  my 
grief  were  thoroughly  weighed,  and  my  calamity  laid  in 
the  balances  together." 

I  was  so  choked  with  grief  that  I  could  not  speak  ; 
and,  after  a  few  moments'  silence,  I  heard  him  exclaim, 
in  an  under-tone,  "  Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God." 

I  asked  him  if  there  was  no  possible  escape.  He  re 
plied,  "  None  whatever." 


ASP  ASIA.  119 

After  committing  our  ways  unto  the  Lord,  in  our 
evening's  devotions,  we  retired  for  the  night,  but  not  to 
sleep. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  have  experienced  the  cold 
blasts  of  the  storms  of  adversity.  Such  can  appreciate 
the  terrible  agony  of  mind  we  felt  that  long  and  weari 
some  night.  At  length  the  morning  dawned,  and  all 
was  beautiful  without,  but  in  striking  contrast  with  our 
wounded  spirits. 

There  were  times  when  it  seemed  as  though  I  must 
curse  God  and  die;  but  then  I  would  remember  the 
cross  of  Christ,  and  his  teachings:  "If  ye  endure  not 
chastisement,  then  are  ye  not  sons."  And,  to  be  a  child 
of  God  and  an  heir  with  Christ,  I  must  meekly  submit  to 
his  providences. 

After  breakfast  we  rode  to  the  village,  and  broke  the 
unwelcome  news  to  Kate  and  Mr.  Shaw ;  and  they  too 
were  filled  with  sorrow.  Mr.  Shaw  and  my  father  went 
to  consult  Esquire  Hicks,  a  celebrated  lawyer.  He  said 
there  was  no  escape ;  the  debt  would  have  to  be  paid,  so 
far  as  father's  property  would  go  toward  paying  it.  My 
father  then  called  on  the  holder  of  the  notes,  and  said  to 
him  that  if  he  would  exercise  leniency  toward  himself 
and  daughter,  who  were  now  in  a  day  reduced  to  poverty, 
he  would  turn  over  everything  he  had,  and  execute  papers 
at  once  and  save  time  and  expense  at  law.  To  this  the 
gentleman  gladly  assented.  It  was  done;  and  within 
one  month  we  were  homeless  and  penniless. 

I  had  written  full  particulars  to  Mr.  Goodspeed,  and 
received  a  reply  urging  me  to  marry  him  now.  I  de 
clined  for  the  present;  for  my  father  needed  me  more  than 
ever. 

Soon  the  news  of  my  father's  misfortunes  spread  over 
the  town,  and  the  people  all  seemed  to  .-vmpathi/e,  with 


120  A  SPA  SI  A. 

us;  and  good  old  Jane  Fisher  circulated  a  subscription- 
paper  to  raise  money  for  father.  As  for  me,  she  said,  I 
could  take  care  of  myself;  and  so  I  could. 

The  result  was,  a  collection  of  three  thousand  dollars, 
conditioned  that  it  be  invested  in  seven-thirty  govern 
ment  bonds  and  placed  on  special  deposit  with  the  select 
men  of  the  town,  and  that  they  should  pay  over  the  in 
terest  to  my  father  each  year  semi-annually  as  it  matured, 
to  be  expended  by  him  for  his  board. 

As  soon  as  this  was  all  accomplished,  Jane  came  into 
Mr.  Shaw's;  for  father  and  I  were  stopping  there  a  few 
days  till  I  could  obtain  employment. 

She  met  us  all  in  her  usual  don't-care  sort  of  style, 
and,  said  she,  "  Mr.  Horton,  I  have  been  young,  and  now 
am  old,  and  yet  I  have  never  seen  the  righteous  forsaken, 
nor  his  seed  begging  bread.  Read  that,  Mr.  Horton," 
handing  him  a  paper,  "and  see  if  there  isn't  a  God  in 
Israel." 

My  father  commenced  to  read  it. 

"Oh,"  said  she  "read  it  aloud,  so  all  can  hear  it;  for 
may- be  they  won't  like  it." 

My  father  read  it,  as  follows : 

"July  —,18—. 

"EDWARD  HORTON,  ESQ. 

"My  DEAR  SIR: — You  have  been  a  life-long  resident  of 
this  town.  You  have  always  been  in  affluent  circum 
stances,  which  enabled  you  to  act  the  emotions  of  your 
soul  and  freely  contribute  to  all  charitable  objects.  You 
have  ever  been  actuated,  in  all  your  dealings  with  the 
people  of  this  and  the  neighboring  towns,  by  principles 
of  honor  and  strict  integrity ;  you  have  always  exhibited 
a  high  degree  of  public  spirit,  and  so  deported  yourself  as 
to  merit  and  command  the  admiration  and  esteem  of  all 
the  people  ;  and  it  is  to  show  the  great  degree  of  respect 


ASP  A  SI  A.  121 

they  entertain  for  you,  and  their  sympathy  that  you  are 
called  to  wade  through  the  deep  waters  of  adversity, 
that  I  am  commissioned  to  hand  you  this  letter,  and  in 
it  say  to  you  that,  by  contributions  from  nearly  every 
voter  in  this  town,  three  thousand  dollars  in  seven-thirty 
government  bonds  have  been  purchased  and  placed  in 
the  hands  of  the  selectmen,  to  be  kept  so  long  as  you 
shall  live ;  and  the  interest  shall  be  .paid  to  you  by  the 
chairman  of  the  board,  semi-annually,  on  the  15th  of  July 
and  January  of  each  year,  and  at  your  death  it  shall  re 
vert  to  the  original  donors. 

"  With  eminent  expressions  of  our  high  esteem, 
"  I  am  yours  respectfully, 

"  For  the  donors, 

"SAML.  HAYNES, 
"Chairman  of  Selectmen." 

My  father  was  so  deeply  moved  by  this  manifestation 
of  regard  that  it  was  with  difficulty  that  be  could  read 
it  through ;  and,  upon  concluding  it,  we  all  enjoyed  a 
good  hearty  crying,  in  which  Jane  participated. 

At  Jane's  suggestion,  it  was  concluded  to  have  father 
live  with  Mr.  Shaw.  The  interest  would  just  about  pay 
his  board. 

God  in  his  providence  having  in  so  mysterious  a  manner 
provided  for  my  father,  I  now  cast  about  in  earnest  for 
something  to  do  to  support  myself.  I  applied  for  a  school 
in  a  neighboring  town ;  and,  by  some  means,  Mr.  Good- 
speed  heard  of  it,  as  also  did  Rose  (Mrs.  Shepherd),  and 
Mr.  Goodspeed  came  at  once  to  visit  me,  and  brought  a 
letter  from  Rose,  insisting  that  I  must  not  defer  nmiTinirr 
any  longer,  and  that  she  craved  the  privilege  of  giving 
me  a  wedding-party  on  rny  arriving  in  the  city. 

Mr.  (Joodspeed  now  resumed  his  suit,  and  his  argu- 
11 


122  ASP  ASIA. 

merits,  based  upon  my  ill  fortune,  I  confess  were  forcible ; 
and  the  result  was  that,  after  considering  it,  and  praying 
over  it  for  a  day  or  two,  I  finally  yielded;  and  said  I, 
"Morgan  Goodspeed,  do  you  offer  me  your  heart  and 
hand  without  reserve,  and  prompted  only  by  the  purest 
emotions  of  love?" 

"I  certainly  do,"  he  replied;  "and  I  think  my  con 
stancy  of  purpose,  as  evinced  during  the  past  three  years, 
is  a  sufficient  guarantee  of  my  sincerity." 

"  It  is,"  I  replied ;  "  and  I  accept  you." 

The  day  for  the  wedding  was  decided  upon,  and  that 
the  ceremony  should  be  performed  in  our  church,  and  my 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Shaw,  should  officiate. 

Mr.  Goodspeed  returned  home,  and  I  hastened  my  prep 
arations  for  the  wedding,  which  was  to  take  place  two 
weeks  from  the  Sabbath  following. 


CHAPTER    XL 

"  They  tell  me  the  vision  of  bliss  that  is  glinting, 

My  heart's  star  of  promise,  in  gloom  will  decline, 
And  the  fair  scene  that  Fancy,  the  fairy,  is  tinting, 
AVill  lose  all  its  sunny  glow  ere  it  is  mine. 

"  Oh,  if  Love  and  Life  be  but  a  fairy  illusion, 

And  the  cold  future  bright  but  in  Fancy's  young  eye, 
Still  let  me  live  in  the  dreamy  delusion, 
And,  true  and  unchanging,  hope  on  till  I  die." 

THE  two  weeks  in  which  I  had  to  prepare  for  the 
wedding  passed  swiftly  by;  and  on  the  Friday  previous, 
Mr.  Goodspeed  arrived. 

Sabbath  morning  at  last  came, — a  beautiful  morning, 
the  9th  day  of  August,  18 — .  I  thought  I  never  saw  the 
sun  shine  forth  with  greater  brilliancy  and  splendor; 
and,  in  my  meditations,  a  strange  sensation  came  over 
me.  I  thought  over  the  scenes  of  my  early  life,  of  the 
pleasures  of  my  childhood  days,  of  the  happy  hours  at 
home,  "  the  dear  old  home,"  of  a  father's  and  mother's 
counsel  and  prayers,  of  the  precious  privileges  which  it 
had  pleased  a  kind  Providence  to  grant  me;  and  I 
realized  that  this  day  I  was  to  part  with  youth  forever, 
and  enter  upon  womanhood  ;  and,  however  much  pleasure 
and  happiness  I  anticipated  in  view  of  my  marriage,  as 
my  mind  reverted  to  the  pleasures  of  former  days  I 
could  but  feel,  "  Oh  that  I  were  a  girl  again  !"  But  then, 
I  thought,  to  be  always  a  girl  is  not  answering  the  high 
est  purpose  and  aim  for  which  I  was  designed ;  and  it  is 

(123) 


124  ASP  ASIA. 

the  part  of  a  Christian  philosopher  to  enjoy  life  as  it 
passes,  and  the  highest  degree  of  happiness  in  this  life 
can  only  be  attained  by  performing  acts  of  charity  and 
love  fully  commensurate  to  the  age  and  ability  of  the  in 
dividual. 

Casting  aside  the  reminiscences  of  former  days,  its 
pleasures  and  pains,  its  joys  and  its  sorrows,  its  pros 
perity  and  its  adversity,  I  looked  forward  with  bright 
anticipations  to  the  full  fruition  of  earthly  happiness  as 
the  result  of  my  married  life. 

Time  came  for  church-service.  Arriving  at  church, 
we  found  the  congregation  assembled  and  in  waiting. 

We  were  all  seated  by  Mr.  Shaw  in  his  pew.  Taking 
his  place  in  his  pulpit,  the  choir  sang  a  voluntary,  and 
soon  services  commenced. 

Mr.  Shaw  preached  from  the  text,  "  Love  one  another," 
and  I  could  but  think  he  was  reading  a  lecture  to  Mr. 
Goodspeed  and  myself;  and  if  I  didn't  observe  sly  glances 
between  him  and  Kate,  then  I  am  mistaken.  It  may  be 
that,  owing  to  my  trepidation,  it  was  simply  my  imagin 
ings.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  confess  that  I  was  neither 
very  highly  entertained  nor  instructed  by  the  preaching 
that  day,  nor  did  I  relish  my  position  as  being  an  exhibi 
tion  ;  for  I  felt  that  I  was  gazed  upon  by  the  entire  con 
gregation. 

After  sermon,  the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed. 
The  choir  sang  a  lovely  anthem,  the  benediction  was 
pronounced,  and  the  congregation  retired. 

But  my  friends  were  so  earnest  to  give  me  a  parting 
salutation,  as  they  said,  "possibly  for  the  last  time, "that 
it  was  with  difficulty  that  we  could  crowd  our  way  out  of 
the  house;  and  good  old  Jane  Fisher — bless  her  soul! — 
came  to  me  WTith  her  eyes  almost  blinded  with  tears,  and 
said  she,  "Aspasia,  you  know  how  much  I  thought  of 


A  SPA  SI  A.  125 

your  mother,  and  you  look  just  exactly  like  her,  and  you 
don't  know  how  sorry  I  am  to  see  that  you  are  about  to 
leave  us  forever.  God  bless  you!  Remember  me  in  your 
prayers  ;"  and,  putting  her  mouth  close  to  my  ear,  she 
whispered,  "Are  you  going  to  live  in  Boston?  and  shall 
you  keep  house,  or  board  ?  Folks  will  ask  me,  and  I 
want  to  tell  it  just  as  it  is." 

I  replied,  "  I  could  not  yet  say,  but  as  soon  as  it  was 
determined,  I  would  endeavor  to  write  her." 

This  seemed  to  satisfy  her  craving  inquisitiveness,  and 
we  were  all  soon  seated  in  the  carriage,  and  on  the  way 
home. 

My  husband  and  myself  retired  to  our  room;  I  threw 
myself  into  a  chair,  and  buried  my  face  in  my  hand 
kerchief,  and  cried  like  a  child.  My  husband  sat  silent. 
As  soon  as  I  recovered  from  my  fit  of  sadness,  I  sprang 
to  him,  and,  throwing  my  arms  about  his  neck,  said  I, 
"Morgan  Goodspeed,  my  husband,  I  love  you.  It  was 
not  simply  that  I  am  married  that  caused  this  sadness  to 
come  over  me,  but  it  was  because  I  must  now  bid  adieu 
forever  to  all  my  dear  friends  who  have  been  so  very  kind 
to  my  parents  and  myself  at  all  times,  in  adversity  as 
well  as  prosperity,  and  that  I  must  now  turn  from  the 
scenes  of  my  childhood,  and  enter  upon  the  realities  of  life. 
And,  while  I  cannot  bury  the  past  in  oblivion,  I  cannot 
but  be  sensible  of  the  crushing  weight  of  the  responsibili 
ties  of  the  future  which  I  am  to  bear.  And,  oh,  I  fear  that 
I  shall  not  prove  equal  to  the  task;  and  I  beg — beg?  no,  I 
claim — your  manly  forbearance  and  charity,  pledging  you, 
before  my  God,  that,  so  long  as  life  lasts,  I  will  ever  and 
at  all  times  prove  myself  your  loving  and  devoted  wife.1' 

He  clasped  me  to  his  bosom,  and  for  a  moment  we 
were  silent ;  at  last  he  spoke,  as  follows  : 

11* 


126  A  SPA  SI  A. 

11  We  will  not  deplore,  then,  the  days  that  are  past ; 
The  gloom  of  misfortune  is  over  them  cast ; 
They  were  lengthened  by  sorrow,  and  sullied  by  care; 
Their  griefs  were  too  many,  their  joys  were  too  rare ; 
Yet  now,  that  their  shadows  are  on  us  no  more, 
Let  us  welcome  the  prospect  that  brightens  before. 

"Oh  let  us  no  longer,  then,  vainly  lament 
Over  scenes  that  have  faded,  or  days  that  are  spent; 
But,  by  faith  unforsaken,  unawed  by  mischance, 
On  hope's  waving  banner  still  fixed  be  our  glance; 
And,  should  fortune  prove  cruel  and  false  to  the  last, 
Let  us  look  to  the  future  and  not  to  the  past." 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  "but, 

"As  we  look  back  through  life  in  our  moments  of  sadness, 
How  few  and  how  brief  are  its  gloamings  of  gladness; 
Yet  we  find,  midst  the  gloom  that  our  pathway  o'ershaded, 
A  few  spots  of  sunshine, — a  few  flowers  unfaded  ; — 
And  memory  still  hoards,  as  her  richest  of  treasures, 
Some  moments  of  rapture, — some  exquisite  pleasures." 

Monday  came,  and  sister  Kate  and  myself  commenced, 
packing  the  large  Saratoga  trunk,  which,  by  some  strange 
freak  of  fortune,  had  fallen  to  me. 

1  say  fortune,  and  indeed  it  was;  for  I  could  not  have 
provided  myself  writh  one  at  this  time,  for  lack  of  money. 

Tuesday  morning  came,  and,  bidding  the  dear  ones 
"good-by,"  we  were  safe  on  board  the  cars  for  the  city 
that  was  to  be  my  future  home. 

We  arrived  in  Boston  at  half-past  four  P.M.  of  that 
day,  "safe  and  sound;"  and  I  was  overjoyed  and  as 
tounded  to  find  my  old  friend  Rose,  and  her  husband  and 
some  twenty  or  thirty  other  gentlemen,  and  as  many 
ladies,  in  waiting  at  the  depot  to  welcome  us  on  our 
arrival,  and  escort  us  to  Mrs.  Shepherd's  mansion. 


ASPASIA.  127 

I  afterward  learned  from  my  husband  that,  according 
to  agreement,  he  telegraphed  Mrs.  Shepherd  in  the  morn 
ing  when  he  expected  to  arrive,  and  said  nothing  to  me, 
preferring  to  take  me  by  surprise,  to  see  how  I  should 
appear  under  circumstances  so  calculated  to  embarrass 
almost  any  lady. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "how  did  I  appear  ?" 

"  Splendidly,"  he  replied. 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  said  I.  "  I  hope  I  may  always 
please  you,  and  receive  in  return  the  devotion  of  your 
noble  heart." 

Being  wearied  with  my  day's  ride,  and  the  excitement 
consequent  upon  the  circumstances  which  I  have  nar 
rated,  I  retired  to  rest  early. 

I  passed  the  following  day  (Wednesday)  very  pleas 
antly  with  Mrs.  Shepherd;  and  that  evening  we  all  at 
tended  the  church  social-meeting,  and  it  was  indeed  a 
precious  season.  I  noticed  (or  at  least  I  thought  I  did) 
that  my  husband  was  considerably  affected;  which  gave 
me  great  encouragement.  I  had  vowed  to  God  never 
to  cease  my  prayers  nor  my  pleadings  for  and  with 
him.  For  however  much  I  loved  him,  and  however 
intense  was  his  love  for  me,  I  could  not  feel  safe  and 
secure  in  his  pledges  unless  I  had  the  fullest  assurance 
that  he  had  been  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  his  mind  by 
the  power  and  grace  of  God.  I  had  learned  that  all  the 
resolutions  of  a  soul  unsanctified  by  grace  were  weak 
and  unreliable,  and,  however  good  the  moral  intentions 
were,  in  the  day  of  extreme  temptation  that  soul  would 
fall  away;  and  therefore  my  only  safety  for  the  future 
of  my  life  rested  in  the  results  of  the  operation  of 
God's  Spirit  upon  my  dear  husband's  heart.  I  was  de 
termined  to  perform  my  duty  at  the  throne  of  grace  in 
his  behalf;  well  knowing  that  if  I  did  the  Holy  Spirit 


128  ASP  AS  I  A. 

would  surely  manifest  His  presence, — which  would  result 
either  in  his  conversion  or  tend  to  harden  him  in  sin.  If 
the  former,  the  glory  would  be  God's  ;  if  the  latter,  he 
would  have  to  "bear  his  own  iniquity,"  and  I  should 
"save  my  own  soul." 

And  here  I  will  say  to  my  young  readers,  as  you  are 
coming  up  the  steep  and  rugged  paths  of  life,  you  will 
find  nothing  that  will  soften  down  the  asperities  of  the 
way  like  a  well-grounded  hope  in  Christ.  You  may  start 
out  in  your  own  strength  with  the  best  resolves  ;  but  you 
Avill  meet  here  and  there,  as  you  clamber  over  the  cliffs, 
the  fiery  darts  of  temptation  hurled  against  you  with  such 
rapidity  and  force  that  you  will  not  be  able  to  maintain 
your  standing  in  the  road,  or  to  pursue  your  journey  by 
your  own  strength,  skill,  or  nerve.  You  will  then  find 
that  you  need  the  aid  of  one  stronger  than  yourself;  and 
Jesus  is  that  one.  lie  said,  "  My  strength  is  sufficient 
for  thee."  He  "  has  trodden  the  wine-press  of  the  wrath 
of  God  alone,"  "  when  there  was  none  to  help,"  and  knows 
full  well  how  to  pity  poor,  weak,  fallen  humanity.  There 
fore  it  is  that  "He  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for 
us,  with  groanings  which  cannot  bo  uttered." 

The  friends  of  Mrs.  Shepherd  were  anxious  she  should 
give  my  wedding  party  on  Wednesday  evening ;  but  she 
declined.  Both  herself  and  husband  were  devoted  Chris 
tians  ;  and,  although  they  enjoyed  the  innocent  pleasures 
of  life  to  a  degree  exceeded  by  none,  and  were  possessed 
of  ample  wealth  to  afford  them  all  the  luxuries  which  their 
souls  might  crave,  yet  they  squared  their  whole  life  by 
the  principles  of  Christ's  teachings,  and  were  always 
happy. 

Thursday  evening  came,  and  with  it  my  wedding-party 
at  Mrs.  Shepherd's. 

The  elegant  parlors  and  reception-rooms  were  thrown 


AS  PAST  A.  129 

open  to  the  brilliant  party  assembled,  and  the  elite  of  the 
city,  to  the  number  of  over  four  hundred,  were  present. 
All  that  wealth  could  do  was  done  to  render  the  party  a 
brilliant  one;  the  ladies  fairly  sparkled  with  diamonds. 
The  evening  passed  off  very  pleasantly ;  I  formed  many 
new  acquaintances,  some  of  whom  afterward  became 
valuable  friends. 

Late  in  the  evening  dancing  commenced,  and  I  received 
several  invitations  to  dance,  all  of  which  I  was  compelled 
to  decline,  from  the  simple  reason  that  I  did  not  know 
how.  One  gentleman,  a  Mr.  Howard,  who  very  politely 
invited  me  to  dance  with  him,  and  received  my  oft-re 
peated  excuse,  felt  himself  called  upon  to  discuss  the 
dancing  question  ;  and,  expressing  his  surprise  that  a  lady 
who  occupied  so  exalted  a  position  in  society  as  myself 
should  not  understand  the  dance,  inquired  whether  I 
thought  it  wrong  to  dance.  I  replied  that,  so  far  as  the 
simple  act  of  dancing,  or  jumping  up  and  down,  was  con 
cerned,  there  was  nothing  sinful  or  immoral ;  but  I  thought 
it  a  very  foolish  amusement,  and  one  that  led  to  immoral 
practices,  the  tendency  of  which  was  deleterious  to  so 
ciety.  True,  it  did  not  produce  this  effect  upon  all  who 
participated  in  it,  nor  upon  a  majority,  for,  if  it  did,  so 
ciety  would  indeed  be  in  a  pitiable  condition ;  but  for  a 
young  gentleman  or  lady  to  engage  in  it  under  all  circum 
stances,  when  opportunity  offered,  it  certainly  would  re 
quire  a  heroic  mind  to  resist  the  evil  influences  engen 
dered  by  such  associations ;  therefore  it  was  that  I  dis 
approved  of  it,  and,  aside  from  that,  I  thought  it  a  very 
foolish  amusement ;  and  that  if  the  time  spent  by  ladies 
and  gentlemen  in  dancing  could  be  occupied  in  conversa 
tion  upon  subjects  that  were  elevating  to  the  mind,  I  felt 
sure  its  influence  in  moulding  society  for  good  would  be 
felt  and  appreciated. 


130  A  SPA  SI  A. 

I  begged  the  gentleman's  pardon  for  so  fully  expressing 
my  views,  but  since  he  had,  as  he  supposed,  "flanked  my 
battery,"  I  was  compelled  either  to  resist  or  retreat:  the 
latter  I  never  do,  at  least  not  until  I  have  exhausted  my 
means  of  defense.  He  would,  therefore,  please  excuse 
me  without  offense  ;  which  he  very  pleasantly  assured  me 
he  did,  remarking,  "  I  shall  think  of  what  you  have  said, 
for  I  am  inclined  to  respect  your  judgment." 

At  a  late  hour  the  party  broke  up,  and  the  guests  each 
gave  us  a  hearty  parting  salutation  as  they  left. 

Thus  ended  the  introduction  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Good- 
speed  to  the  elite  of  Boston  society. 

We  spent  the  remainder  of  the  week,  and  until  the 
Monday  following,  at  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shepherd's,  and 
passed  the  time  pleasantly  in  reminiscences  of  former 
days  and  prognostications  of  the  future ;  but,  although 
in  my  marriage  everything  was  as  propitious  as  heart 
could  wish,  still,  when  left  to  my  own  reflections,  a  cer 
tain  sort  of  sadness  came  over  me  at  the  thought  that  I 
had  lived  out  one  period  of  my  life,  and  that,  too,  a  very 
important  one,  and  had,  so  far  as  I  could  discover,  fallen 
far  short  of  my  privileges  in  the  accomplishment  of  the 
highest  good  for  which  I  was  born. 

Sabbath  came,  and  with  it  we  all  repaired  to  church ; 
and  after  the  voluntary  on  the  grand  old  organ,  by  one  of 
the  best  performers  I  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  listening 
to,  the  venerable  divine  arose,  and  read  the  following 
hymn  : 

"  Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love." 

The  pastor  requested  that  the  whole  congregation,  or 
all  who  could,  should  join  in  singing  this  old  and  familiar 
hymn.  I  really  do  not  know  that  my  recent  marriage  had 


ASPASIA.  131 

anything  to  do  with  the  reading  of  that  hymn,  but  I  con 
fess  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  it  had.  The  sermon, 
which,  by  the  way,  exhibited  a  high  order  of  talent  in  the 
writer,  was  upon  the  establishment  of  the  kingdom  of 
Jesus  Christ  upon  the  earth. 

The  theory  advanced  by  the  venerable  divine  was,  that 
the  thousand  years  of  the  millennium  would  be  three  hun 
dred  and  sixty-five  thousand  years  as  we  reckon  time, 
"  for  a  thousand  years  are  with  God  as  one  day ;"  "  and 
that  during  that  period  Jesus  would  reign  as  king  in  per 
son  upon  the  earth,  and  peace  and  righteousness  cover 
the  earth  as  waters  do  the  great  deep;"  "that  death  from 
disease  would  gradually  decrease  until  no  such  thing 
would  be  known"  (and  here  I  said  to  myself,  "  What 
will  become  of  doctors?");  "and  that  death  by  violence 
would  not  occur  at  all :  the  earth  will  rapidly  return  to 
its  original  estate  of  beauty,  purity,  and  perfection,  and 
the  savage  beasts  lose  their  ferocity,  and  there  will  be 
a  literal  fulfillment  of  the  prophecy,  'The  lion  shall  lie 
down,  etc.;'  and,  at  the  end  of  this  period,  death  will  be 
banished  from  the  earth,  and  the  whole  earth  will  be 
made  as  beautiful  as  the  garden  of  Eden  when  God 
looked  upon  it  at  the  first,  and  saw  that  it  was  very  good. 
And  it  will  be  peopled  with  an  immortal  race  of  beings ; 
all  who  have  previously  died,  trusting  in  Christ,  shall  rise 
to  newness  of  life,  and,  with  all  who  are  then  living,  will 
put  on  immortality;  and,  as  stated  in  the  24th  verse  of  the 
loth  chapter  of  2d  Corinthians,  Jesus  will  then  deliver  up 
the  kingdom,  as  an  interceding  priest,  to  God,  even  the 
Father  God,  and  then  will  be  fulfilled  the  vision  of  the 
relation  of  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth,  for  the  first 
heaven  (meaning  the  spirit-world,  where  the;  souls  of  the 
saints  repose  until  the  final  judgment)  and  tin-  lirst  earth 
(referring  to  this  sin-cursed  earth  as  it  now  appears)  were 


132  A  S  PAS  1. 4. 

passed  away ;  then  will  also  be  fulfilled  that  which  was 
spoken  by  Jesus,  'The  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth.' 
Jesus  will  then  appear  all-glorious,  exalted  by  God  to 
be  a  King  and  a  Prince  forever;  God  will  triumph  over 
the  works  of  Satan,  the  earth  will  be  purified  and  re 
stored  as  before  the  fall,  and  man  redeemed  from  sin,  and 
from  under  the  curse  of  the  law,  made  pure  and  holy,  as 
at  the  first,  and  the  earth  his  everlasting  home  with  Jesus 
his  King." 

The  sermon  was  intensely  interesting  throughout  its 
entire  delivery. 

I  would  like  to  give  a  fuller  synopsis  of  the  discourse, 
with  his  references,  had  I  time. 

I  accept  the  theory  of  a  purified  and  redeemed  earth  as 
the  future  eternal  heaven  with  pleasure,  and  I  fancy  that 
if  this  doctrine  were  more  generally  preached,  its  tend 
ency  would  be  to  remove  a  great  deal  of  skepticism  from 
the  minds  of  men ;  for  we  are  all  so  constituted  that  it  is 
difficult  to  believe  in  a  heaven  without  a  locality,  quite  as 
difficult  as  to  believe  in  a  God  without  a  person. 

Why  is  it  that  the  heathen  in  all  ages  have  had,  and 
still  have,  their  images  of  wood  and  stone  ?  It  is  simply 
because  they  represent  their  ideal  of  God,  or  gods,  not 
that  they  really  are  gods,  but  the  ideal  of  God. 

Thus  it  was  that  Christ  the  Lord  God  came  from  heaven 
in  the  person  of  Jesus,  that  he  might  satisfy  this  demand 
of  man  for  a  perfect  intelligence,  on  whom  man  could 
look,  knowing  him  as  God. 

"And  thus  he  was  lifted  up  as  the  brazen  serpent  was 
lifted  up  in  the  wilderness,  that  all  who  looked  might 
live." 

On  returning  from  church,  Mr.  Shepherd  inquired  of 
me  what  I  thought  of  the  sermon.  I  replied  that  I  was 
highly  entertained  and  instructed  ;  the  ideas  advanced 


A  SPA  SI  A.  133 

might  be,  and  probably  were,  new  to  many,  but  they 
were  so  forcibly  presented,  and  so  clearly  substantiated 
by  Bible  texts,  and  all  harmonized  so  perfectly  with  my 
preconceived  views  of  heaven  as  a  locality,  and  the  soul's 
want  of  a  theory  of  this  sort,  based  upon  the  Bible, 
reason,  and  sound  judgment,  that  I  most  heartily  indorsed 
them.  And  one  sublime  thought,  not  adverted  to  by  the 
speaker,  but  which  naturally  grew  out  of  the  sermon,  and 
struck  me  with  great  force,  and  in  the  consideration  of 
which  the  mind  becomes  completely  overwhelmed,  is  the 
degree  of  perfection  which  men  will  attain  in  the  arts  and 
sciences  during  those  three  hundred  and  sixty  five  thou 
sand  years  spoken  of  by  the  preacher. 

What  wonderful  advancement  in  knowledge  has  been 
made  by  man  during  the  last  half  century  !  Then  alt 
travel  was  by  the  slowcoach;  day  after  day  and  night 
after  night,  jolting  along  the  highway,  and  but  one  short 
journey  could  be  made  in  a  twelvemonth,  by  reason  of 
the  time,  expense,  and  fatigue  consequent  upon  the  mode 
of  conveyance. 

And  by  water  it  was  subjecting  one's  self  to  the  monot 
onous  swell  of  the  waves,  being  slowly  urged  forward  by 
heaven's  gentle  breezes,  or,  betimes,  driven  with  violence 
before  the  storm. 

Now  two  weeks  is  sufficient  in  which  to  cross  the 
broad  Atlantic  in  a  floating  palace,  propelled  by  the 
mighty  unseen  force  of  steam. 

And  we  can  compass  a  continent  in  a  single  week  in  a 
palace  on  wheels,  drawn  by  the  iron  horse. 

And,  so  far  as  time,  the  fatigue  and  expense  of  travel, 
and  written  correspondence  are  concerned,  friends  who  are 
to-day  separated  by  thousands  of  miles  are  neighbors 
close  at  hand,  as  compared  with  the  times  and  circum 
stances  of  fifty  years  ago. 

12 


134  ASP  ASIA. 

And  being  able,  as  we  are,  to  bridle  that  mysterious, 
unseen  force  we  call  electricity,  and  drive  it  by  any  route 
we  choose,  we  can,  by  its  aid,  send  a  message,  as  quick  as 
thought,  from  one  end  of  the  earth  to  the  other,  or  around 
the  world;  and  thus  men  who  are  separated  as  wide  as  the 
world  talk  to  each  other  as  neighbors. 

Turn  over  the  pages  of  the  past,  one,  two,  three,  four 
hundred  years,  and  contrast  the  condition  of  the  world 
then  with  the  present.  Then  "  darkness  covered  the 
earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people ;"  but  now  the  light 
of  God's  truth  shines  (though  dimly)  in  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  men;  and  thus  the  mind,  directed  by  Bible- 
teachings,  intelligently  searching  for  God,  that  great,  all- 
powerful,  unseen  force,  has  become  by  degrees,  and  in  a 
measure,  enlightened,  and  able  to  develop  and  apply  to 
practical  use  wonderful  inventions  in  the  arts  and  sciences, 
even  to  count  the  stars  all  by  name,  and  in  all  knowledge 
to  so  far  excel  his  fellow  of  the  past,  that  could  one  of 
the  sleepers  of  a  hundred  years  ago  now  step  out  upon 
earth  and  witness  the  progress  of  this  age,  he  would,  in 
his  astonishment,  be  inclined  to  exclaim,  "  Indeed,  ye 
are  gods,  and  not  men." 

Now,  then,  in  view  of  the  unlimited  growth  of  mind, 
and  reasoning  from  analogy,  what  a  glorious  world  will 
this  be  a  hundred  thousand  years  hence,  or,  if  that  is  too 
far  a  stretch  of  the  mind,  how  glorious  will  the  world  be 
come  one  thousand  years  hence!  The  man  of  intelligence 
of  this  day  will  be  but  a  mere  pigmy,  as  compared  with 
him  who  shall  stand  upon  the  same  ground  a  hundred 
thousand  years  hence  ;  and  I  believe  that  the  souls  of  all 
those  who  have  died,  and  those  who  will  die,  will,  in  their 
advancement,  keep  pace  with  the  increase  of  knowledge 
among  men  on  the  earth,  and  thus  be  fitted  in  all  things, 
at  the  great  resurrection,  for  associating  with  the  count- 


AS  f  ASIA.  135 

less  millions  of  earth's  inhabitants  when  the  "  kingdom 
shall  be  given  up  to  God  the  Father,  and  Jesus  Christ 
shall  take  to  himself  his  almighty  power  and  reign." 

"  Well,"  replied  Mr.  Shepherd,  "  I  was  myself  greatly 
interested  in  the  sermon,  but,  not  being  so  well  prepared 
to  accept  the  doctrines  and  theories  advanced  as  you 
were,  I  did  not  so  fully  appreciate  them,  but  I  do  now, 
and  I  most  sincerely  thank  you  for  your  elucidation  of 
the  subject." 


CHAPTER    XII. 

ON  Monday  we  left  our  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shepherd, 
and  commenced  boarding,  having  obtained  a  very  pleas 
ant  suite  of  rooms,  which  my  husband  furnished  in  elegant 
style. 

And  as  I  look  back  over  my  married  life,  I  find  the 
days  spent  in  those  rooms  among  my  happiest. 

We  took  a  pew  in  Dr.  Eddy's  church,  and  I  united 
with  the  church  by  letter ;  and,  while  it  was  a  happy 
thought  that  in  the  city  of  my  new  home  I  found, 
through  the  channels  of  religion,  the  same  congeniality 
that  1  had  ever  enjoyed  at  my  old  home,  yet  it  was  a 
painful  thought  that  my  dear  husband,  him  whom  I  had 
taken  as  the  partner  of  my  life,  the  sharer  of  my  joys 
and  sorrows,  could  not  join  with  me  in  communing  with 
Jesus. 

Soon  after  uniting  with  the  church  I  was  urged  to 
teach  in  the  Sabbath-school.  My  husband  was  at  first 
inclined  to  object,  for  he  said  he  was  so  intensely  occu 
pied  in  his  business  during  the  week  that  he  desired  my 
company  on  the  Sabbath  ;  but  I  persuaded  him,  and  he 
gave  his  consent. 

I  took  charge  of  a  large  class  of  young  ladies:  several, 
however,  were  not  very  young,  in  fact,  some  were  older 
even  than  myself.  I  soon  found  many  of  them  so  intel 
ligent  that  it  required  pretty  close  study  on  my  part, 
during  my  leisure  hours,  to  fit  myself  for  the  duties  of  the 
Sabbath.  And  my  husband  would,  at  such  times,  up- 
(136) 


ASP  AS  I  A.  13T 

braid  me,  and  urge  me  to  abandon  the  class,  to  which  I 
replied,  "Never.  I  never  abandon  anything  I  undertake. 
'I  must  be  about  my  Master's  business.'  If  I  can  do  any- 
good,  you  certainly  are  willing  that  I  may.  I  am  sure 
you  would  delight  to  have  it  said  that  your  wife  is  one  of 
the  leading  ladies  in  the  church,  would  you  not  ?"  At 
the  same  time,  throwing  my  arms  about  his  neck,  I  gave 
him  a  good,  hearty  kiss. 

I  used  that  argument  with  him  to  stimulate  generous 
impulses,  through  his  pride;  and  I  succeeded,  for  he 
replied : 

"  I  do  not  like  to  see  you  toiling  so  hard  for  nothing ; 
but,  if  it  affords  you  any  pleasure,  I  have  no  objection." 

And  many  an  evening  thereafter,  while  preparing  my 
self  for  the  discussion  of  a  difficult  theme,  he  would  vol 
unteer  his  assistance  in  my  researches,  until  he  became 
interested  to  such  an  extent  that  he  was  almost  induced 
to  become  a  member  of  a  gentleman's  class  himself;  but, 
alas!  how  difficult  it  is  for  men,  whose  minds  are  ab 
sorbed  in  the  things  of  this  life,  to  bring  themselves  to  a 
practical  consideration  of  those  things  which  are  of  vastly 
greater  importance  to  them  than  all  earthly  treasures! 

I  am  not  opposed  to  wealth,  far  from  it,  or  to  that 
diligence  which  maketh  rich.  The  possession  of  wealth 
need  not  of  necessity  encumber  a  person's  soul ;  but  that 
it  does  so,  in  very  many  cases,  cannot  be  denied,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  there  are  those  \vlio  are  made  stewards 
of  God's  bounties,  who  glorify  God  with  their  substance; 
they  are  ever  on  the  alert  to  search  out  the  poor  and  dis 
tressed  and  alleviate  their  wants.  These  are  the  salt  of 
the  earth ;  and  were  it  not  for  the  seasoning  such  men 
impart,  society  would  be  in  a  deplorable  condition. 

Weeks  and  months  passed  away.  One  year  had  about 
expired, — for  which  we  engaged  board, — and  I  was  e.\- 


133  A  SPA  SI  A. 

peeling  soon  to  commence  housekeeping,  when  I  was 
taken  very  ill;  and,  aside  from  my  physical  suffering,  I 
grieved  at  being  confined  to  my  room,  on  account  of  my 
husband's  anxiety  to  move  into  his  new  house,  just 
furnished  and  ready;  for  he  was  anticipating  great  pleas 
ure  (as  he  said)  "at  commencing  to  live." 

Finding  that  I  was  not  likely  to  recover  rapidly  from 
my  illness,  I  was,  in  a  few  weeks,  removed  carefully  to 
our  new  house;  and  all  that  a  loving  husband  and  at 
tentive  servants  and  the  aid  of  friends  could  do  was  done 
to  render  me  comfortable  and  hasten  my  recovery. 

It  was  not  long  thereafter  that  I  presented  my  husband 
his  first-born,  a  beautiful  boy. 

So  soon  as  I  was  able  to  ride  we  took  him  to  the  font, 
before  the  altar,  and  dedicated  him  to  God  in  baptism. 
We  named  him  for  my  lost  brother  William. 

Oh,  how  many  hours  have  I  sat  and  anxiously  watched 
the  countenance  of  that  little  angel  as  he  lay  in  the  basket- 
cradle,  like  some  waif,  the  lost  jewel  of  the  Great  King, 
and  tried  to  divine  from  the  lineaments  of  the  beautiful 
face  the  character  of  that  immortal  mind,  which  was 
comparatively  dormant,  and  only  developed  itself  uncon 
sciously  as  the  wants  of  nature  demanded. 

My  husband  now  became  more  attached  to  home  than 
ever  before  ;  his  darling  boy  seemed  the  idol  of  his  heart", 
and,  as  he  grew  in  stature,  so  he  also  grew  in  his  father's 
affections. 

Time  passed  on,  and  I  presented  my  husband  with  two 
daughters,  perfect  in  body  and  mind,  for  which  we  sin 
cerely  thanked  a  kind  Providence.  We  named  the  eldest 
Rose,  in  memory  of  my  dearest  friend,  and  the  youngest 
Bell,  .for  one  who,  by  her  virtues,  contributed  to  the  hap 
piness  of  my  social  life  in  youth. 

Our  boy  William  had  come  to  be  ten  years  of  age, 


ASP  A  SI  A.  139 

our  eldest  daughter,  Rose,  eight,  and  Bell  six  years  of 
age ;  and  they  had  all  been  thoroughly  instructed  from 
the  Bible  from  the  time  they  could  lisp  the  name  of  Jesus ; 
and  every  Sabbath  found  them  in  their  classes  at  the 
Sabbath-school. 

About  this  time  I  observed  that  my  dear  husband  did 
not  seem  to  respect  my  religious  views  as  much  as 
formerly,  and  needlessly  absented  himself  from  church, 
offering  some  frivolous  excuse;  all  of  which  pained  me 
deeply.  He  was  kind  to  me  in  all  other  respects.  Pos 
sessed,  as  he  was,  of  ample  means,  and  carrying  on  a  very 
profitable  business,  I  was  not  allowed  to  feel  the  want  of 
anything,  neither  were  the  children,  and  he  freely  gave 
me  money  to  appropriate  for  charitable  objects  as  I 
saw  fit. 

And  in  my  reflections  upon  my  dear  husband's  course 
of  life,  I  could  but  think  that  he  was  in  the  same  sad 
case  as  the  young  man  spoken  of  by  Christ.  "  One 
thing  thou  lackest."  And  I  prayed  more  fervently  for 
him  than  ever.  In  the  morning,  after  he  had  left  for  his 
business,  and  at  night,  previous  to  his  return,  I  would 
gather  my  dear  children  about  me,  and,  all  kneeling  be 
fore  God,  I  would  pour  out  my  soul's  earnest  desire  that 
my  children  might  be  carried  like  lambs  in  Christ's 
bosom,  and  be  preserved  from  the  temptations  and  snares 
of  this  life.  Then,  oh,  then  it  was  that  I  felt  the  need  of 
a  sympathizing  heart,  to  go  with  me  to  the  mercy-seal. 

And  bidding  the  children  to  go  about  their  plays,  I 
would  agonize  in  behalf  of  my  dear  husband,  determined 
never  to  cease  my  pleadings  until  I  should  be  permitted 
t<>  Bee  the  answer  to  my  supplications. 

Time  passed  on,  and  my  husband,  from  neglecting  one 
duty  after  another,  also  began  to  negleet  his  family;  and, 
notwithstanding  my  earnest  entreaties  to  the  contrary, 


140  ASPASIA. 

he  would  frequent  the  club-room,  returning  at  a  late 
hour  of  the  night,  his  clothing  scented  with  the  noxious 
fumes  of  tobacco,  and  occasionally  I  detected  the  odor  of 
ardent  spirits. 

I  always  sat  up  for  him.  Never,  I  think,  in  a  single 
instance,  did  I  retire  until  his  return.  This  he  did  not 
like,  and  urged  me  to  retire  at  a  seasonable  hour  ;  but  I 
peremptorily  declined,  giving  as  my  reason  that  his  wel 
fare,  temporal  and  spiritual,  was  as  dear  to  me  as  my 
own  soul,  and  I  could  not,  and  would  not,  retire  to  rest 
any  night  until  I  knew  he  was  safe. 

I  never  upbraided  him,  but  I  would  do  all  in  my  power 
each  night,  on  his  return,  to  render  him  comfortable  and 
happy. 

I  was  finally  taken  violently  sick  with  fever,  which 
soon  assumed  the  typhoid  form,  and  for  one  week  I  was 
delirious.  During  that  time  my  husband  (as  I  afterward 
learned)  did  not  leave  my  bedside  for  an  hour  at  a  time, 
day  nor  night.  He  was  very  much  alarmed  lest  I  should 
not  recover.  And  when  I  had  so  far  rallied  as  to  be  able 
to  converse  with  him,  oh,  what  deep  regrets  did  he  ex 
press  at  his  course  of  life  during  the  years  previous,  and 
with  what  earnestness  did  he  beg  my  pardon  for  his 
neglect ! 

I  drew  him  to  my  pillow,  and,  with  one  of  my  warm 
est  kisses,  said  I,  "My  dear  husband,  you  are  too  good  to 
cruelly  neglect  your  family,  unless  you  give  yourself  up 
to  the  influence  of  wicked  persons.  Oh,  that  you  would 
give  your  heart  to  Jesus,  to  be  wholly  influenced  by  his 
Spirit !  then  there  would  be  no  danger ;  but  you  cannot 
keep  yourself." 

"  Yes,  I  can, "" he  replied,  "  and  I  shall  never  again  treat 
you  so  ill."  And  he  wept  like  a  child. 


A  SPA  SI  A.  141 

"Alas  !"  said  I  to  myself,  "  how  little  he  knows  of  the 
frailty  of  man." 

I  was  now  so  far  recovered  that  my  children  (precious 
souls)  were  permitted  to  be  about,  and  upon  my  bed. 
It  was  a  great  blessing-  that  I  could  thus  again  enjoy 
them,  and  listen  to  their  hearty  congratulations  upon  my 
recovery. 

I  continued  to  grow  better  each  day  gradually,  until, 
in  the  course  of  two  months,  I  had  regained  my  usual 
strength.  My  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shepherd,  were 
very  solicitous  as  to  the  result  of  my  severe  sickness, 
and  were  untiring  in  their  efforts  to  alleviate  my  suffer 
ings  and  promote  my  speedy  recovery.  Many  friends  in 
the  church  and  out  of  it  were  also  attentive  to  me. 

Upon  riding  to  Mrs.  Shepherd's  (my  first  after  my 
sickness),  it  seemed  as  though  I  was  a  new  creature,  or 
else  I  was  in  a  new  and  beautiful  world. 

Have  any  of  my  readers  ever  been  brought  low  by 
sickness,  and  confined  for  weeks  by  a  burning  fever, 
which  well-nigh  exhausted  the  system? 

If  so,  upon  going  out  into  the  world  again,  how  new 
everything  appears !  one  seems  to  look  with  new  and 
clearer  eyes  ;  and  every  person  you  meet  seems  a  friend. 
What  the  philosophy  of  this  is  I  do  not  undertake  to 
say ;  but  this  was  my  experience,  and  I  doubt  not  it  is 
that  of  others. 

I  suppose  it  is  accounted  for,  in  part,  from  the  fact  that 
during  a  long  confinement  the  mind  is  divested  of  all 
perplexing  cares  or  vexatious  problems,  and  reasons  with 
itself,  and  to  a  very  great  extent  (in  some  more  than 
others)  divests  itself  of  selfishness,  and  views  humanity 
from  the  broad  base  of  neighborly  or  brotherly  affection. 

Again;  by  being  brought  low  in  sickness,  thus  ren- 


142  ASP  AS  I  A. 

dered  helpless,  and  wholly  dependent  upon  others,  the 
individual  comes  to  realize  his  weakness  and  dependence 
upon  his  fellow-man;  and  consequently  his  first  associa 
tions  with  the  world  will  be  characterized  by  love. 

Nothing  but  a  consciousness  of  our  weakness  and  per 
sonal  inability,  whether  mental  or  physical,  will  ever 
bring  us  into  such  a  condition  of  humility  as  to  cause  us 
to  appreciate  either  God  or  our  fellows ;  and,  indeed,  this 
sort  of  affliction  (sickness)  is  absolutely  essential  to  some 
people,  to  render  them  even  endurable  as  neighbors. 

I  once  knew  a  lady  who  was  violent  in  her  denuncia 
tions  of  all  her  acquaintances,  proud,  arrogant,  and  de 
fiant,  when  she  had  enjoyed  health  for  months ;  but, 
after  being  brought  low  in  sickness  (as  she  was  many 
times),  she  was  kind,  soft-tempered,  and  quite  lovable ; 
all  of  which  would  wear  off  as  she  regained  her  strength 
and  vigor,  until  it  was  the  oft-expressed  wish  that  "Mrs. 
Scott  would  have  the  fever  again." 

For  several  months  after  my  recovery  my  husband 
remained  firm  in  his  promises  of  faithfulness  to  his  family, 
and,  with  our  three  lovely  children  about  us,  we  enjoyed 
a  happy,  happy  home. 

But,  alas !  how  delicate  and  frail  is  the  rose  of  earth's 
pleasure  !  In  an  hour  it  withers,  droops,  and  dies. 

God  had  raised  me  up  from  the  very  threshold  of  the 
grave,  to  lead  me  through  the  deep  waters  of  trouble  and 
adversity,  to  test  my  faith  still  stronger,  and  thus  fit  me 
for  greater  usefulness  in  this  life,  and  a  more  exalted 
state  in  the  future  life  of  the  soul. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

MY  mind  has  been  so  deeply  absorbed  in  my  own 
affairs,  and  in  the  affairs  of  my  precious  family,  that  I 
have  neglected  to  chronicle  events  that  have  transpired 
relating  more  especially  to  other  friends. 

Just  previous  to  my  severe  sickness,  taking  my  chil 
dren  with  me,  I  visited  my  friends  at  my  native  town. 
By  this  time  sister  Kate's  children  had  grown  up  around 
her  like  the  fair,  fresh,  and  healthy  shoots  under  the 
shade,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  life-giving  principles  of  the 
noble  parent-tree  from  which  they  sprang. 

And  although  I  thought  my  children  were  good  (and 
they  were),  yet,  when  brought  side  by  side  with  Kale's, 
I  could  but  note  the  contrast.  And  I  remarked  to  her 
that  I  believed  my  children  were  as  good  as  they  could 
be,  and  hers  were  good  because  they  could  not  be  other 
wise.  The  difference  in  the  temperaments  of  the  two 
families  was  striking,  and  this  was  the  cause  of  the  dif 
ference  in  the  conduct  of  the  children  :  education  was 
not  at  fault  in  either  case. 

I  found  my  father  quite  feeble ;  for,  although  he  was 
borne  up  under  his  trials  by  the  Christian's  hope,  y«  t 
there  was  a  conflict  of  mind  constantly  going  on  that 
impaired  greatly  the  vigor  of  his  physical  system  ;  and  I 
was  pained  to  note,  while  there,  a  gradual  weakness 
coming  upon  him,  and  I  could  but  think  that  he  had  not 
long  to  live. 

(143) 


144  A  SPA  SI  A. 

Aii  affair  occurred  in  connection  with  the  church  while 
I  was  there,  which  I  will  relate,  simply  to  show  the 
faculty  possessed  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Shaw,  my  brother-in- 
law,  to  heal  dissensions  in  his  church  and  between  mem 
bers,  and  preserve  peace,  and  at  the  same  time  endear 
himself  more  than  ever  to  his  people. 

As  a  wounded  Wrd  flutters  in  its  agony,  fearful  of  all 
about  it,  and  tries  to  escape  even  from  the  hand  of  one 
who  would  bind  up  its  wound  and  protect  it  from  harm, 
so  it  was  wTith  the  lady  member  of  Mr.  Shaw's  church 
who  was  wounded  by  the  darts  of  evil-minded  sisters  in 
the  church ;  but,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  her  faith  was 
stronger  than  her  fears,  and,  through  the  skill  and  man 
agement  of  her  pastor,  her  usefulness  was  not  in  the  least 
impaired. 

The  circumstances  of  the  case  were  as  follows: 

A  most  excellent  lady,  by  the  name  of  Johnson,  a 
member  of  Mr.  Shaw's  church,  had  taken  a  very  active 
part  in  all  church  enterprises.  If,  for  instance,  there  was 
to  be  a  church  fair,  Mrs.  Johnson  was  the  lady  who 
would  first  move  in  the  matter,  and  by  her  talents  and 
energy,  and  remarkable  executive  ability,  it  was  always 
sure  to  succeed,  and  that,  too,  profitably.  So  with  any 
and  all  affairs  in  connection  with  the  church,  until  it  came 
to  this,  —  that  before  any  undertaking  was  commenced 
it  was  conceded  necessary  that  it  should  receive  Mrs. 
Johnson's  indorsement  in  order  to  insure  success. 

And  certain  evil-minded  ladies  in  the  church  had  be 
come  very  jealous  of  Mrs.  Johnson's  increasing  popu 
larity,  and  sought  to  find  something  against  her,  to  accuse 
her  before  the  church,  "  to  humble  her,"  as  they  said. 
They  could  find  nothing  immoral  in  her  character,  and 
she  never  committed  a  mistake  in  her  management  of  the 
several  societies  of  which  she  was  the  presiding  officer. 


A  SPA  SI  A.  145 

Three  of  these  ladies,  viz.,  Mrs.  Wood,  Mrs.  Smith,  and 
Mrs.  White,  called  on  the  pastor  to  enter  a  complaint, 
saying  Mrs.  Johnson  ought  to  be  restrained  from  putting 
herself  forward  so  much,  for  the  reason  that  her  husband 
was  not  a  member  of  the  church.  They  said  it  didn't 
look  well  to  them  to  see  a  lady,  whose  husband  was  not  a 
church-member,  to  be  making  herself  quite  so  officious, 
and  they  hoped  Mr.  Shaw  would  at  once  call  upon  Mrs. 
Johnson  and  talk  with  her  about  it,  and  get  her  to  re 
sign. 

"  Resign  what  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Shaw. 

"Why,"  said  they,  "resign  her  offices.  She  is  the 
President  of  the  Sewing  Society,  President  of  the  Ladies' 
Relief  Society,  and  President  of  the  Ladies'  Washing- 
tonian  Society." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  "suppose  she  would  resign 
all  those  offices,  whom  could  you  get  to  take  her  place  ? 
If  I  am  going  to  see  her  and  make  your  proposition,  she 
would  first  inquire  who  would  accept  those  offices.  For 
I  am  sure  she  would  be  glad  to  resign  if  she  knew  the 
duties  of  each  office  would  be  properly  attended  to." 

"  Resign  !"  said  they:  "we  are  surprised." 

"Can't  help  that,"  replied  Mr.  Shaw.  "I  know  Mrs. 
Johnson  so  well,  that  I  am  sure  she  would  be  glad  to  be 
relieved,  if  she  knew  the  positions  would  be  well  filled." 

To  this  they  expressed  great  astonishment.  "  For," 
said  Mrs.  Wood,  "  I  can't  understand  why  any  one  should 
wish  to  resign  so  respectable  a  position." 

Mr.  Shaw  replied  that  it  was*  not  every  respeH:tble 
position  that  made  the  occupant  respectable,  or  even  re 
spected;  but  a  respectable  person  would  dignify  and 
render  respectable  any  position  he  might  be  called  to 
occupy. 

13 


146  ASP  AS  I  A. 

"Ami  no\v,  ladies,  please  allow  me  to  say  that  a  sister 
in  the  church,  whom  I  shall  not  name,  has  called  on  me 
and  informed  me  that  Mrs.  Johnson  has  heard  that  some 
thing  of  this  sort  is  going  on,  and  she  is  feeling  very 
badly  about  it.  She  says  she  has  done  all  she  could  for 
the  church  with  no  selfish  motives,  and  thinks  I  ought  to 
use  my  influence  to  crush  out  the  feeling  against  her,  and 
I  thought  of  calling  on  her  this  afternoon;  but,  from  what 
1  have  learned  of  her  feelings,  I  thought  it  best  to  let  her 
alone  a  few  days. 

"  But  now  you  have  one  proposition  for  me  to  make 
to  Mrs.  Johnson,  viz.,  that  she  resign  her  presidencies. 
Whom  would  you  suggest  as  her  successor?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  White,  "  I  don't  believe  any  one 
lady  ought  to  think  of  filling  all  those  offices." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "and  I  would  sug 
gest  Mrs.  White  as  President  of  the  Sewing  Society." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Mrs.  White :  "  I  didn't  think  of  such 
a  thing.  But  I  will  suggest  Mrs.  Wood  as  President  of 
the  Ladies'  Relief  Society." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mrs.  Wood:  "I  really  ought  to 
consult  my  husband  before  I  accept  it.  And  I  would  sug 
gest  Mrs.  Smith  as  President  of  the  Washingtonian  So 
ciety." 

"  Well,  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  "you  have  been  so  kind 
as  to  nominate  three  most  excellent  persons  to  succeed 
Mrs.  Johnson  in  case  she  resigns,  and  persons  of  all 
others  that  I  believe  she  would  choose  herself,  and  I  have 
very  little  doubt  but  shp  will  resign  if  asked  to.  But  the 
complaint  you  urge  I  do  not  quite  see  the  force  of.  You 
say  your  objection  to  Mrs.  Johnson  is  chiefly  because  her 
husband  is  not  a  member  of  the  church.  Now,  my  opin 
ion  is,  that  is  the  very  reason  why  she  should  be  sus 
tained  in  holding  those  offices.  For,  in  the  first  place, 


ASPASIA.  147 

every  one  concedes  that  Mr.  Johnson  is  one  of  the  best 
men  in  the  town." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Shaw  !"  said  they.  "  You  a  minister,  and 
yet  say  that  a  man  who  is  not  a  member  of  the  church  is 
one  of  the  best  men  in  the  town." 

"  Yes,  most  assuredly  I  do,"  replied  Mr.  Shaw.  "  Is 
there  any  brother  in  our  church  who  attends  meetings 
more  regularly  than  Mr.  Johnson,  or  who  pays  more 
devout  attention  to  the  preaching  than  he,  or  one  who 
contributes  more  liberally  for  the  support  of  the  church 
than  he  ?" 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  White;  "that  is  all  very  true;  but, 
then,  you  know  that  a  man  may  do  all  these  and  yet  not 
be  a  Christian." 

"Very  true,"  replied  Mr.  Shaw.  "But  is  there  any 
man  in  this  town  who  contributes  more  liberally  to  alle 
viate  the  poor  in  their  distresses  than  does  he,  or  one 
who  is  more  attentive  and  kind  to  the  sick  of  the  neigh 
borhood  ?  And  did  you  ever  hear  a  person  say  that  there 
were  any  indications  of  dishonesty  in  his  dealings  with 
others  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Smith ;  "  but  this  moral  way  of  living 
does  not  constitute  a  man  a  Christian." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  "  will  not  a  sincere  Christian 
do  just  as  Mr.  Johnson  does  ?" 

"Well,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Wood;  "but  they  will  do  it 
from  a  pure  motive." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  Mr.  Johnson  is  not  actuated 
from  the  purest  of  motives?  Have  you  ever  looked  into 
a  man's  heart,  so  as  to  be  able  to  judge  correctly  of  the 
motive  which  prompts  his  acts  ?  Christ  said  (not  by 
their  motives,  but),  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them. 
And  as  the  fruits  of  the  Christian's  life,  he  enumerates 
these  very  duties  which  you  confess  Mr.  Johnson  per- 


148  A  SPA  SI  A. 

forms.  Therefore,  what  right  have  you  or  I  to  say  that 
Mr.  Johnson  is  not  a  Christian  ? 

"  We  hear  of  no  neighborhood-quarrels  he  is  engaged 
in,  while,  as  you  may  be  aware,  we  have  church-mem 
bers  who  are  continually  in  trouble  with  their  neighbors. 
I  should  be  rejoiced  could  Mr.  Johnson  see  it  his  duty,  as 
well  as  privilege,  to  unite  with  the  church,  for  he  would 
be  a  very  efficient  member,  and,  I  doubt  not,  would  stim 
ulate  others  to  a  higher  degree  of  piety;  but  you  should 
understand,  ladies,  that  the  church  never  saves  a  soul, 
while  the  united  prayers  of  God's  people  may  and  do 
prevail  with  God  to  save  men;  but  the  simple  fact  of 
subscribing  to  our  creed,  and  having  one's  name  entered 
on  the  roll  of  the  church,  is  of  itself  of  no  avail  for  our 
salvation;  that  does  not  constitute  a  Christian,  by  any 
means;  but,  on  the  contrary,  if  we,  before  the  world, 
put  on  the  garments  of  righteousness,  and  then  live  as 
sinners  live,  and  even  worse  than  some  sinners  do,  we 
shall  be  like  the  foolish  virgins  who  had  no  oil  in  their 
lamps. 

"  Christ  says,  'Not  every  one  that  saith  unto  me,  Lord, 
Lord,  have  we  not  eaten  and  drunk  in  thy  name,  etc.,  shall 
inherit  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  he  that  doeth  the  will 
of  my  Father.' " 

The  ladies  looked  with  astonishment  at  Mr.  Shaw 
while  he  was  thus  addressing  them.  They  seemed  to 
feel  convicted  of  their  guilt,  and  sat  in  silence  for  a 
moment.  At  length,  rising  from  her  chair,  said  Mrs. 
White,  "Ladies,  hadn't  we  better  be  going?"  Accord 
ingly,  they  all  at  once  withdrew,  saying,  as  they  left  the 
house,  they  would  endeavor  to  see  him  again  upon  this 
matter. 

Several  weeks  passed  without  Mr.  Shaw's  hearing  any 
thing  further  of  the  affair,  and  he  hoped  the  troublesome 


AS  PAS  I  A.  149 

sisters  had  profited  by  his  remarks ;  of  course  he  said  no 
thing  to  Mrs.  Johnson  about  it. 

One  afternoon,  as  Mr.  Shaw  was  writing  in  his  study, 
Deacon  Jones  called,  and,  after  exchanging  the  ordinary 
salutations,  said  he, — 

"  Sisters  White,  Wood,  and  Smith  all  called  on  me  yes 
terday  to  enter  a  complaint  against  Sister  Johnson,  which, 
if  true,  ought  to  be  examined  into,  and  they  insist  that 
she  shall  be  brought  before  the  church.  I  directed  them 
to  you,  but  they  said  they  had  seen  you  once,  and  should 
not  again." 

Mr.  Shaw  then  detailed  the  conversation  he  had  with 
the  lovely  sisters,  which  somewhat  astonished  the  deacon, 
and  said  he, — 

"I  think  it  would  be  very  unwise  to  call  Mrs.  Johnson 
before  the  church;  it  would  result  in  no  good,  and  might 
in  great  evil.  I  will  call  on  her,  and  see  what  she  has  to 
say;  if  she  has  been  saying  anything  wrong  of  those 
sisters,  as  stated  by  them,  or  guilty  of  any  of  those  im 
moral  practices,  as  they  represent,  she  may  acknowledge 
it  and  ask  pardon  ;  if  so,  that  is  all  that  can  be  required 
of  her;  but,  deacon,  I  do  not  believe  one  word  of  it.  Is 
there  any  other  flagrant  sin  they  charge  upon  her  ?" 

••  Yes,"  said  the  deacon,  "  dancing." 

"Dancing?"  .said  Mr.  Shaw.     "Where,  and  when?" 

The  deacon  replied,  "  I  cannot  tell  anything  more  about 
it." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  "  you  go  and  tell  those  women, 
in  the  first  place,  to  clean  the  inside  of  their  own  platters, 
and  then,  if  they  know   of  any  flagrant   sin   that  Mrs. 
Johnson  persists  in  committing,  to  present  (heir  elm 
in  writing,  and  \ve  will  take-  them  up  tit  once." 

With  this  the  good  old  deacon  left,  and  reported  to  the 
women  as  directed. 

13* 


150  A  SPA  SI  A. 

A  few  days  after  this  interview  the  deacon  called  again 
on  the  pastor,  and  handed  him  a  letter,  of  which  the  fol 
lowing  is  a  copy : 

"  To  THE  REV.  MR.  SHAW,  PASTOR,  AND  DEACONS  JONES, 
SPRAGUE,  AND  FISH. 

"BRETHREN  : — In  our  zeal  for  the  interests  of  the  church, 
we  have  made  it  a  point,  at  all  times,  to  carefully  watch 
the  brethren  and  sisters  of  the  church,  as  we  solemnly 
agreed  and  covenanted  to  do,  and,  if  possible,  to  find 
some  fault  with  them,  and  especially  with  such  as  are 
officious,  and  were  very  forward  to  pray  or  exhort  in  meet 
ings  any  oftener  than  they  are  justiiied  by  the  rules  of 
propriety,  or  who,  in  any  manner,  seem  to  assume  to  lead 
the  people  ;  for  we  do  not  believe  a  person  can  be  a  Chris 
tian,  and  a  fit  member  of  the  church,  unless  he  or  she  is 
humble  and  does  not  attempt  to  put  themselves  forward. 

"  We  have  watched  Sister  Johnson  for  a  long  time,  and 
it  has  pained  us  to  see  how  officious  and  proud  she  has 
become,  and  to  us  it  is  an  evident  sign  of  want  of  grace 
in  her  heart.  We  feel  that  it  is  unsafe  for  the  church  to 
retain  such  a  member,  for  there  is  great  danger  to  us  all 
from  her  influences ;  and  we  charge  Sister  Johnson,  among 
other  sins  which  she  delights  in,  with  that  of  dancing ;  and 
we  insist  that  an  examination  be  had  before  the  church. 
"  Truly  your  sisters  in  the  church, 

"  MRS.  WHITE,  WOOD,  and  SMITH  " 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Shaw,  "this  is  a  precious  document ! 
What  do  these  mischief-makers  want  ?  Do  they  wish  to 
break  up  the  church  ?  to  cause  dissensions  and  bickerings  ? 
I  wish  they  would  mind  their  business.  Deacon,  can't 
you  persuade  their  husbands  to  send  them  away  for  a 


A  SPAS  I  A.  151 

visit,  and  see  if  they  will  not  forget  their  chosen  occupa 
tion  for  awhile,  and  let  the  church  have  rest  ?  But,  joking 
aside,  you  call  here  to-morrow  at  two  P.M  ,  and  we  will 
go  and  see  Sister  Johnson,  and  learn  what  she  has  to 
say."  With  this  the  deacon  left. 

The  morrow  came,  and,  at  the  appointed  time,  Deacon 
Jones  drove  up  to  Mr.  Shaw's,  and  together  they  rode  to 
Mr.  Johnson's,  and  met  Mrs.  Johnson,  when  the  following 
conversation  took  place. 

Mr.  Shaw.  "  Sister  Johnson,  some  of  the  sisters  in 
the  church  have  complained  of  you  for  dancing.  As  it  is 
against  the  rules  of  the  church,  we  have  come  to  learn 
about  it,  and  hear  what  you  have  to  say." 

Mrs.  Johnson.  "  Well,  sir,  I  really  do  not  remember  of 
dancing  but  once  for  years,  and  that  was  at  an  evening 
party  at  Mrs.  Lockwood's.  I  spent  an  evening  there  with 
several  friends,  and,  at  the  close  of  the  evening,  Jane 
Lockwood  (who,  you  know,  is  a  fine  performer  on  the 
piano)  was  playing,  and  Mr.  Lockwood  invited  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  to  dance,  and,  as  he  was  himself  a  mem 
ber  of  the  church  (and  I  think  no  one  will  for  a  moment 
doubt  his  piety),  I  thought  no  ill  of  it,  and  danced  a  few 
moments." 

"Well,  were  you  not  aware  that  it  was  contrary  to  the 
rules  of  the  church  ?" 

"Xo,  sir,  I  was  not  aware  that  the  rules  of  the  church 
were  so  rigid  as  to  prohibit  a  little  innocent  amusement 
like  that;  but,  of  course,  I  would  not  myself  approve  of 
ordinary  dances  ;  and  perhaps  it  was  wrong  even  in  that 
case.  But,  sir,  is  there  not  something  else  the  dear  sis 
ters  are  after  than  simply  to  call  me  to  an  account  for  so 
trivial  an  ofl'ense?  If  all  that  has  been  told  me  is  true,  \v<> 
have  some  busybodies  in  our  church  who,  for  the  good  of 
the  church,  had  better  be  out  of  it." 


152  AST  A  SI  A. 

"  Well,  if  your  dancing  that  evening  has  been  the  cause 
of  grief  to  others,  or  has  led  others  into  frivolities,  was  it 
not  then  wrong?  and,  in  such  case,  do  you  not  regret 
it?" 

"  Most  certainly,  sir,  I  do ;  for  I  endeavor  to  live  by 
the  rule  of  Paul,  '  If  meat  cause  my  brother  to  offend,  I 
will  eat  no  more  while  the  world  standeth,  lest  I  cause  my 
brother  to  offend,'  and  if  from  participating  in  that,  as  I 
supposed,  innocent  pleasure,  I  have  grieved  any  Christian's 
heart,  or  caused  any  one  to  stumble,  I  most  heartily  and 
earnestly  repent  of  it,  and  beg  to  be  forgiven." 

Deacon  Jones.  "  Well,  Sister  Johnson,  I  am  glad  to 
hear  this ;  but  are  you  willing  to  go  before  the  church 
and  make  this  confession  ?" 

Mr.  Shaw.  "  Deacon,  we  must  ourselves  be  cautious, 
and  not  commit  a  greater  error  than  Sister  Johnson  has. 
She  has  made  all  needed  confession,  for  we  have  already 
answered  the  injunctions  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  rules 
of  the  church." 

Mrs.  Johnson.  "  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  inform  me 
who  my  complainants  are,  Mr.  Shaw  ?" 

"No,  sister;  it  will  do  you  no  good,  and  I  shall  see  that 
nothing  further  comes  of  it." 

Thus  ended  the  attempt  on  the  part  of  three  meddle 
some,  envious  women  to  destroy  the  reputation  and  use 
fulness  of  the  most  efficient  lady  in  the  church. 

Having  completed  my  visit,  I  returned  home,  and  soon 
after  was  taken  sick,  as  previously  stated. 

During  my  sickness  my  dear  father  died ;  but  I  was 
permitted  to  know  nothing-of  it  until  my  recovery. 

About  this  time  my  husband  was  called  South  on  busi 
ness  for  his  house,  expecting,  when  he  left,  to  be  absent 
about  ten  days. 

After  waiting  the  appointed  time  and  no  return,   I 


A  SPA  SI  A.  153 

began  to  fear  lest  some  evil  had  befallen  him ;  but  I 
hoped  for  the  best. 

Day  after  day  I  anxiously  awaited  his  return,  and  my 
nights  were  passed  sleepless  and  alone  ;  and  yet  not  alone, 
for  God  was  with  me,  and  I  felt  that  I  had  the  sym 
pathy  of  the  great  heart  of  Jesus. 

Have  any  of  my  readers  been  placed  under  such  cir 
cumstances  ?  A  dear  friend  away  from  home  and  past 
his  appointed  time  for  return,  and,  after  days  and  nights 
of  anxious  and  earnest  watchings  and  waiting,  yet  no 
tidings  concerning  him  ?  If  so,  you  can  appreciate  my 
feelings  at  this  time.  At  such  times  it  is  unnatural  for  a 
person  to  fancy  the  absent  friend  safe ;  and  although  one's 
thoughts  are  almost  continually  upon  them,  yet  we  do 
not  think  of  them  as  being  detained  by  causes  or  circum 
stances  within  their  control.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  the 
natural  inclination  of  the  mind  to  think  of  them  as  in 
trouble ;  fearful  forebodings  seize  upon  the  mind  at  once, 
and  we  fancy  all  sorts  of  evil  have  come  upon  them. 
Hope  seems  to  be  driven  out  of  the  mind  entirely,  and  if, 
while  thus  held  in  suspense,  hope  again  gains  the  ascend 
ency,  it  is  wholly  because  of  the  controlling  power  of  the 
will.  Affections  do  not  grow  cold, — far  from  it;  on  the 
contrary,  they  become  more  ardent,  for  it  is  a  law  of  one's 
nature  that  to  appreciate  health  we  must  have  suffered 
from  disease ;  to  fully  appreciate  blessings  we  must  have 
passed  through  adversity.  This  law  also  holds  good  in 
the  physical  system.  To  become  strong  and  muscular, 
we  must  not  recline  on  beds  of  down,  and  spend  our  days 
in  idleness  and  inactivity;  but  we  must  labor  and  exer 
cise,  and  the  more  earnestly  we  apply  this  regime,  the 
stronger  and  more  muscular  do  we  become.  So  with  the 
attributes  of  the  mind.  In  order  to  a  spontaneous  exer 
cise  of  the  affections  to  the  highest  degree,  it  is  necessary 


154  ASPASIA. 

that  the  object  of  our  love  should  be  removed  from  us  for 
a  time.  As  with  love,  so  with  the  opposite.  We  never 
know  how  to,  and  indeed  we  never  do  really,  hate  evil, 
until  we  have  learned  to  love  the  good  ;  and  it  is  a  mer 
ciful  provision  of  God's  grace,  that  he  has  given  us  the 
records  of  the  sins  and  backslidings  of  his  chosen  people 
of  old,  and  of  the  terrible  judgments  which  came  upon 
them  at  times  in  consequence,  and  also  of  the  patience 
and  faith  of  the  old  worthies  "  as  our  ensamples ;"  and, 
knowing  that  human  nature  has  not  changed,  we  may 
thereby  be  enabled  to  shun  the  rock  on  which  they 
drifted. 

My  husband's  partner  in  business  was  also  greatly 
alarmed  for  his  safety,  by  reason  of  his  prolonged  ab 
sence,  and  telegraphed  to  places  where  he  thought  he 
could  reach  him,  but  to  no  avail. 

Oh,  how  I  did  plead  with  God  for  the  safe  return  of 
my  dear  husband,  and  the  father  of  my  dear  children  ! 
and  every  morning  and  night  I  would  talk  with  them  of 
the  possibility  of  evil  having  happened  to  their  father, 
until  their  little  hearts  would  almost  break.  I  did  not  do 
this  to  cause  them  unnecessary  pain  and  anguish.  But 
first,  because  my  soul  was  borne  down  with  grief,  and  I 
felt  the  absolute  need  of  a  responsive  expression  from 
some  other  heart,  and  the  more  ardent,  the  greater  is  the 
relief  which  comes  to  the  afflicted;  and  this  can  be  found 
nowhere  so  strong  as  in  the  outbursts  of  the  emotions  of 
the  pure  and  tender  heart  of  a  child.  And  secondly,  be 
cause  I  wished  to  impress,  upon  their  young  and  tender 
hearts,  truths  and  principles  of  vital  importance  to  them  ; 
and  under  no  circumstances  could  this  be  so  effectually 
accomplished  as  when  in  deep  sorrow.  And  thirdly, 
because  such  experience  would  bring  all  our  hearts  nearer 
together,  and,  let  what  would  happen  to  them  in  after-life, 


ASP  ASIA.  155 

they  would  never  forget  the  impressions  they  received 
at  that  time,  and  their  love  for  me  would  be  increased,  and 
mine  for  them  proportionately  strengthened,  and  should 
their  father  return  they  would  also  love  him  the  better 
for  it. 

Thus  I  took  my  children  before  the  altar  of  God 
every  morning  and  evening,  and  presented  my  petition 
earnestly  to  Him  who  "tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn 
lamb." 

At  length  I  received  a  letter  from  a  gentleman  in 
Atlanta,  Georgia,  saying  my  husband  had  been  very  sick 
at  that  place,  and  was  still  confined  to  his  room  from  the 
effects  of  an  injury  he  received  some  three  weeks  pre 
vious  ;  but  he  was  now  gaining,  and  would  be  able  to 
leave  for  home,  he  thought,  within  a  week,  and  that  he 
wrote  by  my  husband's  request. 

I  at  once  wrote  my  dear  husband  of  the  agony  of 
mind  I  had  endured  on  behalf  of  him,  as  also  had  our 
precious  children,  and  thus  I  was  most  thankful, — yes, 
indeed,  perfectly  enraptured  with  the  thought  that  he 
was  safe,  and  that  I  should  see  him  again.  Within  about- 
one  week  we  welcomed  him  home;  but,  alas,  how 
changed  from  what  he  was  when  he  left!  Then,  hale 
and  hearty, — now,  pale  and  haggard.  I  nursed  him  as 
none  but  a  loving  wife  could,  and  he  gradually  improved 
until  he  regained  his  usual  health.  For  a  time  he  was 
affectionate  and  faithful;  but  it  was  not  many  months 
before  I  noticed  upon  his  coming  in  of  evenings  the 
smell  of  ardent  spirits  about  him,  and,  by  degrees,  ho 
would  spend  his  evenings  away  from  homo.  I  became 
-rratly  alarmed  at  this,  and  prayed  most  earnestly  for 
him;  and,  as  often  as  I  thought  prudent  and  safe,  so  as 
not  to  irritate  him,  and  thus  lose  my  influence  entirely 
over  him,  I  would  beg  of  him  to  desist  from  those  evil 


156  A  SPA  SI  A. 

practices,  for  my  sake,  for  his  dear  children's  sake,  and 
for  his  own  happiness ;  and  he  always  promised  me  he 
would,  but  as  often  violated  his  promises,  until  it  really 
seemed  to  me  I  could  not  endure  the  trial.  And  my 
mind  reverted  to  the  time  when  my  husband  was  re 
peating  his  pledges  to  me,  and  urging  me  to  marry  him, 
on  the  strength  of  these  pledges,  and  the  impressions  I 
then  had,  as  I  said  to  my  father,  "that  I  had  feared  Mr. 
Goodspeed  was  not  so  good  as  he  would  have  me  be 
lieve  ;"  and  I  was  forced  to  utter  the  exclamation  of  one 
of  old,  "  For  my  sighing  cometh  before  I  eat,  and  my 
roarings  are  poured  out  like  the  water.  For  the  thing 
which  I  greatly  feared  is  come  upon  me,  and  that  which 
I  was  afraid  of  is  come  unto  me." 

And  could  my  children  have  been  mercifully  taken 
away,  I  should  have  longed  for  death. 

I  learned  from  his  partner  that  he  so  far  neglected  his 
business  as  to  frequent  the  saloons  and  gambling-hells, 
and  that  unless  he  speedily  reformed  he  should  dissolve 
partnership  with  him.  I  had  previously  begged  of  my 
friends  to  lend  their  influence  to  aid  me  in  recovering 
my  dear  husband,  and  several  had  done  so.  I  now  ap 
pealed  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shepherd  for  their  aid  once  more ; 
but  Mr.  Shepherd  replied  that  he  "knew  all  about  him, 
and  he  felt  dreadfully  about  it,  from  the  fact  that  he  had 
been  the  primary  cause  of  my  distress,  by  urging  me  first 
to  marry  Mr.  Goodspeed."  I  replied,  "  My  dear  sir,  cast 
no  such  reflections;  marriages  are  made  in  heaven.  And 
although  I  am  now  called  to  pass  through  the  deep 
waters  of  distress,  yet  it  is  for  a  wise  purpose;  and  in 
heaven,  at  last,  we  shall  understand  it.  There  are  many 
such  problems  which  we  have  no  rule  to  solve ;  we  can 
not  understand  them,  their  solution  is  left  for  the  future." 
And  I  begged  of  him  to  aid  me  once  more  in  the  attempt 


AS  PAS  I  A.  157 

to  redeem  my  dear  husband  ;  but  he  replied,  "It  will  be 
of  no  avail, — he  is  lost." 

These  words  fell  like  a  death-knell  upon  my  ear. 

"No  avail!"  "He  is  lost!"  I  repeated  to  myself.  Is  he  ? 
Can  it  be  that  Jesus  died  for  him  in  vain  ?  that  my  inter 
cessions,  entreaties,  and  prayers,  are  all  in  vain  ?  that 
my  love,  and  that  of  my  dear  children,  is  so  freely  poured 
out  for  him  in  vain  ? 

No,  no !  he  will  yet  be  reclaimed,  and  my  heart  shall 
cling  to  him. 

I  then  returned  to  my  home,  and  to  my  room ;  and  oh, 
the  anguish  of  my  soul,  as  I,  all  alone,  thought  upon  our 
former  happy  days,  and  of  hopes  that  were  now  blasted 
forever !  and  I  endeavored  to  devise  some  plan  by  which 
I  might  win  him  back  to  temperance  and  sobriety,  and 
again  share  his  affections. 

But  I  could  think  of  nothing  which  I  had  not  already 
tried.  I  still  determined  with  myself  that  I  would  not 
cease  loving  him,  nor  my  care  for  him  and  my  kindly 
services  toward  him. 

Time  passed  on.  One  after  another  of  my  friends  for 
sook  me.  I  understood  well  the  cause :  my  husband's 
drunkenness  had  become  so  notorious  that  he  had  lost 
the  respect  of  our  entire  circle  of  friends.  Some  of  my 
lady  friends  urged  me  to  sue  for  a  divorce.  I  shuddered 
at  the  very  thought  of  it,  and  replied  that  by  God's  provi 
dence  I  was  mysteriously  brought  to  marry  Mr.  Good- 
speed,  and  had  promised  without  any  mental  reservation 
to  love,  honor,  and  respect  him.  True,  he  had  also  in 
his  marriage  vow  pledged  his  fidelity  to  me;  but  his  sin 
did  not  excuse  me, — no;  I  should  still  continue  to  love 
him,  and  I  felt  sure  that  my  efforts  would  yet  be  owned 
and  blessed  of  God,  and  my  husband  yet  be  brought  to 
see  his  sins  in  their  enormity,  arid  turn  and  live. 

14 


158  ASFASIA. 

One  of  the  reflections  which  caused  me  fearful  fore 
bodings,  was  that  he  might  squander  his  property,  and 
myself  and  children  be  left  poor  and  homeless.  And  I 
took  care,  from  the  first,  to  see  that  my  children  were 
haying  the  very  best  advantages  for  education,  lest 
poverty  might  come  upon  us,  and  they,  in  consequence, 
be  deprived  of  those  blessings. 

Many  of  my  friends  suggested  that  I  apply  to  the 
courts  to  be  protected  in  the  property ;  but  I  would  not 
listen  for  one  moment  to  such  a  proposition.  I  replied 
that  I  would  do  nothing  to  bring  my  family  into  disre 
spect;  I  would  suffer  from  extreme  poverty  rather  than 
that  my  husband  should  be  written  imbecile  on  the  public 
records. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

As  I  sat  in  the  library,  mending  my  husband's  gar 
ments,  a  stranger  called.  He  said  he  was  Deputy  United 
States  Marshal,  and  had  business  with  my  husband.  I 
replied  that  he  would  probably  find  him  at  his  place  of 
business,  No. Street. 

"Place  of  business!"  said  he.  "Is  your  husband  a 
man  of  business  ?" 

I  replied  that  he  was. 

"Alas,  my  lady!"  said  he,  "your  husband  has  most 
grossly  deceived  you.  He  has  no  business,  and  has  had 
none  for  a  long  time.  He  squandered  his  entire  interest 
in  the  house  of  Goodspeed  &  Hammond  long  since,  and 
the  firm  dissolved.  He  then  borrowed  money  and  mort 
gaged  this  place  for  all  it  is  worth,  and  also  the  furniture 
in  this  house,  and  has,  I  am  informed,  spent  it  all  in  gam 
bling,  drinking,  and  other  vices,  and  Mr.  Hammond,  Mr. 
Shepherd,  and  other  friends,  have  for  a  long  time  sup 
ported  you  and  your  children,  by  sending  you  money  and 
supplies  through  Mr.  Hammond.  And  now  I  have  come 
by  order  of  the  court  to  take  possession  of  this  house  and 
furniture  under  the  mortgage,  as  the  debt  has  been  long 
due." 

"  Oh,  my  God  !"  said  I,  "  have  mercy  on  me  and  my 
children,"  and  I  fell  fainting  into  my  chair. 

At  the  gentleman's  call  my  servant-girl  came,  and  bv 
the  application  of  restoratives  I  soon  recovered  ;  upon 
seeing  the  stranger,  I  relapsed  into  my  former  condition, 

(  I-''.)) 


160  AS  PASTA. 

and  it  was  some  moments  before  they  could  restore  me. 
Upon  seeing  me  safe  again,  he  remarked  : 

"You  are  too  ill,  madam,  to  talk  with  further  to-day. 
I  will  call  at  ten  A.M.  to-morrow." 

As  soon  as  he  left,  I  cried,  "Oh,  my  God,  cut  me  off! 
don't  let  me  see  the  light  of  another  sun  I" 

My  maid  was  frightened,  and  said  she, — 

"You're  crazy,  mum;  I'll  run  for  the  doctor." 

"No,"  said  I,  "I  am  not  crazy,  but  I  have  sinned." 

Bessie,  my  maid,  helped  me  on  to  my  bed,  and  gave  me 
a  cup  of  strong  tea,  and  I  felt  somewhat  revived. 

But  oh,  the  anguish  of  my  soul !  I  repented  of  my  sin, 
and  prayed  for  strength  to  endure  the  trials  of  a  life  of 
poverty  that  was  before  me,  that  myself  and  children 
might  be  preserved  from  all  temptation. 

For  an  instant,  when  realizing  that  a  faithless  husband 
had  brought  such  suffering  upon  his  devoted  family,  I 
felt  hard  toward  him.  But  I  soon  rebuked  myself,  and 
said,  Yes,  I  will  continue  to  live  with  him,  and  God  will 
bless  me ! 

Night  came  on,  and  my  precious  children  gathered 
about  my  bed.  William  had  now  grown  to  be  a  young 
man,  and  my  daughters  quite  large  girls.  They  were 
all  well  fitted  for  life  (for  children  of  their  ages),  except 
that  they  were  strangers  to  adversity.  They  earnestly 
inquired  the  cause  of  my  illness,  and  for  a  time  I  evaded 
their  queries;  but  at  last  said  I,  "  My  dear  children,  you 
may  as  well  know  it  now  as  to-morrow." 

I  then  repeated  the  statement  made  by  the  marshal, 
and  the  girls  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears.  William  turned 
his  face  to  the  wall,  and  stood  silent  for  a  few  moments, 
until  the  girls  had  partially  assuaged  their  grief.  Then, 
turning  upon  us  his  countenance  all  radiant  with  love 
and  an  expression  of  manly  dignity,  said  he, — 


AS  PAST  A.  161 

"  My  dear  mother,  and  you,  my  dear  sisters,  let  us  all 
put  our  trust  in  God.  You,  mother,  have  long  since 
taught  us  from  the  Bible,  that  Jesus  will  take  care  of 
those  who  put  their  trust  in  him ;  and  though  called  to 
pass  through  deep  waters,  yet  the  floods  shall  not  over 
flow  them.  Then  let  us  trust  in  Him,  and  I  will  be  your 
stay  and  support." 

Just  at  this  time,  my  husband  came  reeling  into  the 
house,  and,  not  finding  me  in  the  library  as  usual,  he 
stumbled  to  my  bed,  and  with  an  oath,  said  he, — 

"  What  are  you  in  bed  for  this  time  of  day?  Get  up, 
and  get  me  some  tea." 

I  replied,  "  I  was  ill  and  could  not." 

With  that  he  laid  hold  of  me  to  take  me  out,  and,  as 
quick  as  thought,  William  caught  hold  of  him  and  hurled 
him  down  upon  the  floor.  The  girls  screamed;  and  I 
cried,  "My  dear  William,  he  is  your  father,  you  must  not 
treat  him  so  ill." 

William  replied,  "  I  don't  care  if  he  is  my  father,  he 
shall  not  abuse  my  mother." 

William  helped  his  father  into  the  dining-room,  where 
the  girls  prepared  him  some  tea.  After  tea  he  lay  upon 
the  lounge,  and,  after  dozing  awhile,  William  related  the 
occurrences  of  the  day,  to  which  he  seemed  perfectly  indif. 
ferent.  His  moral  sensibilities  had  become  so  benumbed 
that  he  seemed  but  one  remove  from  the  brute.  And  yet 
I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  forsake  him. 

This  was  a  night  of  sorrow,  with  no  rest,  my  mind 
being  too  greatly  disturbed.  I  finally  fell  asleep  and 
dreamed  that  a  man,  with  a  haggard  look,  stood  before 
me,  and  screamed  in  my  ear,  "  Ruined  !  ruined  !  ruined  !" 
I  sprang  up  in  bed,  panting  like  a  scared  roe;  but  no  one 
was  present,  and  all  was  still.  I  laid  myself  down  again, 

14* 


1G2  AS  PAST  A. 

my  temples  were  throbbing,  neuralgia  had  seized  upon 
my  nervous  system,  and  I  cried,  "  0  Lord,  give  to  thy 
chosen  sleep  1"  After  tossing  about  for  a  time,  I  again 
slumbered,  but  only  to  be  terrified  by  dreams  and  visions 
of  poverty  and  deep  distress ;  and  thus  I  suffered  until 
the  morning  light. 

In  the  morning  I  sent  William  to  call  Mr.  Shepherd. 
He  came,  and  I  related  all  to  him.  He  replied  that  he 
was  aware  of  it  all,  and  both  himself  and  his  wife  had 
dreaded  this  fatal  day,  and  that  he  had  a  small  house  of 
four  rooms  just  vacated  by  one  of  his  tenants ;  he  would 
that  morning  have  it  furnished,  and  I  could  take  posses 
sion  of  it  at  once,  and  occupy  it  free  of  rent  or  cost  as  long 
as  I  chose. 

I  thanked  him  with  all  my  heart. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "how  about  that  brute  of  a  husband 
of  yours?  You  had  better  let  me  kick  him  out  of  the 
house." 

"  Oh,  sir!"  said  I,  "don't  call  my  dear  husband  a  brute. 
I  feel  sure  he  will  yet  be  reclaimed." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  hope  he  may;  but  I  should  as 
soon  think  of  seeing  a  soul  enter  a  wooden  man,  as  to 
see  him  a  man  again." 

I  then  went  to  the  kitchen  to  inform  Bessie  (the  kitchen- 
maid).  Said  I,  "  Bessie,  we  are  ruined." 

"  Ruined,  mum,"  said  she;  "  an'  sure,  an'  what  have  I 
done  to  ruin  ye?" 

"  Oh,"  said  I,  "you  have  not  done  it.  You  have  been 
a  good,  kind  girl,  and  I  shall  always  love  you  for  the 
good  you  have  done  for  us.  But  my  husband  has  been 
unfortunate  and  lost  all  his  property,  and  now  this 
house  and  furniture  have  gone  to  pay  debts  with,  and 
we  are  poor,  not  worth  a  dollar  in  the  world,  save  our 
clothing1." 


ASP  AS  I  A.  1C3 

She  looked  with  astonishment  as  I  made  the  statement, 
and  exclaimed,  "  Ye  are  in  a  bad  way,  sure ;  what  can  I 
do  for  ye  ?" 

I  replied  that  we  were  to  go  into  a  small  house,  belong 
ing  to  Mr.  Shepherd,  in  the  alley  leading  off  from  

Street,  and  she  could  go  with  us  and  stay  a  day  or  two 
to  help  us  wash,  and  after  that  the  girls  and  myself  must 
do  all  the  work. 

"An',  sure,"  said  she,  "is  that  the  house  ye  are  going 
to  live  in, — the  same  that  Johnny  O'Neil  left  the  day  be 
fore  yisterday  ?  Bad  luck  to  ye,  an'  sure  an'  I  will  go 
wid  ye  to  help  the  ladies.  I  will  stay  wid  ye,  God  bless 
ye,  mum.  I  have  lived  wid  ye  these  many  years,  and 
niver  a  cross  word  have  ye  uttered  in  my  prissince ;  and 
the  young  ladies  and  William  have  all  been  very  kind  to 
me,  and  I'll  not  lave  ye  now ;  no,  indade,  I  won't.  May 
the  Howly  Virgin  protect  us,  I  can  sleep  on  the  floor,  and 
the  young  ladies  will  let  me  comb  my  hair  before  their 
glass,  and  I'll  stay  by  ye.  Neither  you  nor  the  young 
ladies  are  used  to  work,  and  yer  hands  '11  get  sore." 

"  Bless  your  soul,  Bessie,"  said  I,  "  you  are  a  good  girl, 
and  God  will  reward  you  for  your  kindness.  But  how 
shall  I  pay  you?  I  have  no  money,  and  shall  have  to 
live  upon  the  charities  of  my  friends  until  we  can  get 
work  of  some  sort." 

"  Well,  mum,"  said  she,  "  the  ladies  can  all  earn  more 
by  teaching  than  you  can  by  housework,  and  I  will  go 
wid  ye,  and  we  will  put  in  together,  and  I'll  risk  but  we 
can  live.  The  gintry,  ye  know,  won't  come  to  that  house, 
so  ye'll  want  no  new  clothes  for  some  time." 

Bessie's  arguments  wen-  irresistible,  and  I  consented  to 
Id  her  cast  her  lot  with  us. 

And,  in  my  reflections  upon  this  conversation,  and  my 
knowledge  of  Bessie's  character,  I  could  but  think,  and 


164  ASPASIA. 

said  to  myself,  "How  ill  able  we  are  to  judge  of  the  real 
character  of  an  individual  by  the  external  appearance !" 

Here  was  an  ignorant,  uncouth  Irish  girl,  with  a  soul 
full  of  holy  emotions,  and  the  instant  that  the  chord  of 
sympathy  within  that  soul  was  touched,  it  vibrated  with 
heavenly  music,  pure,  disinterested  benevolence,  none  of 
the  rubbish  of  selfishness  there  ;  and  I  thank  God  for 
just  such  a  friend;  and  no  language  can  express  the  feel 
ing  of  joy  which  thrilled  my  heart  as  she  made  her  sim 
ple  declaration ;  and,  relating  the  conversation  directly 
after  to  the  children  in  the  drawing-room,  I  remarked  that 
it  was  to  me  an  indication  of  God's  favor,  and  labora  et 
spera  should  still  be  my  motto.  I  know  we  shall  see 
brighter  days  by-and-by,  and  your  father  will  yet  be  re 
claimed,  and  we  saved  from  utter  ruin  and  disgrace. 

At  precisely  ten  A.M.  the  marshal  came.  I  had  kept 
my  husband  in,  and,  as  the  marshal  read  him  the  eject 
ment  papers,  I  thought  I  could  observe  a  momentary  ex 
pression  of  alarm,  but  he  soon  relapsed  into  his  usual 
stupid  condition. 

I  said  to  the  marshal  that  a  friend  had  provided  us  with 
a  house,  and  if  he  would  be  so  kind  as  not  to  give  us  un 
necessary  trouble  we  should  leave  the  house  in  a  day  or 
two.  To  this  he  assented  in  a  very  gentlemanly  manner, 
and  before  nightfall  the  next  day  we  were  all  snugly 
packed  away  in  Mr.  Shepherd's  little  brown  house  in  the 
alley  leading  off Street. 

"Alas  for  earthly  joy,  and  hope,  and  love 
Thus  stricken  down  e'en  in  thy  holiest  hour." 

How  true  it  is  that  "  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bit 
terness." 

When  the  heart  of  one  is  all  broken  down  with  sadness, 
and  it  seems  as  though  that  soul  was  alone  in  the  world, 


AS  PAST  A.  1G5 

the  mind  becomes  beclouded,  and  all  is  dark  and  dismal 
with  fearful  forebodings  ;  then  it  is  that  we  feel  the  need 
of  friends,  sympathizing  hearts.  But  even  though  our 
friends  may  cluster  around  us  at  such  times,  and  offer 
words  of  consolation  and  love,  yet  their  sympathies  can 
not  reach  down  into  the  inner  soul  and  grasp  the  painful 
tumor  which  is  gathering  in  the  heart. 

By  this  my  readers  will  not  understand  me  as  under 
valuing  the  outgushings  of  warm  hearts,  full  of  sym 
pathy  for  the  troubled  and  afflicted.  A  person  who 
undervalues  such  expressions  of  the  holiest  emotions  of 
the  soul  is  a  scandal  to  his  species. 

Immediately  after  moving  into  our  humble  home  in  the 
alley,  "William  applied  for  and  obtained  a  situation  as 
second  clerk  in  the  store  of  Mr.  Hammond,  my  husband's 
former  partner,  and  was  thus  earning  something  for  the 
support  of  the  family  ;  and  Mr.  Hammond  also  promised 
him  higher  salary  than  he  had  paid  for  the  same  services, 
and,  so  soon  as  the  bargain  was  closed,  William  hastened, 
full  of  joy,  to  inform  us  of  his  good  fortune.  As  he  came 
into  the  house,  his  countenance  was  as  radiant  as  a  sun 
beam,  and  said  he,  "  Mother,  never  fear ;  I  can  support 
you  and  the  girls.  I  have  secured  a  situation  in  Mr. 
Hammond's  store,  which  I  am  resolved  to  fill  to  his  entire 
satisfaction,  and  I  shall  then  be  able  to  pay  for  all  we 
need." 

About  this  time  Mrs.  Shepherd  called  to  excuse  her 
self  for  not  giving  me  a  better  house,  but  said  they  could 
not  get  possession  of  one. 

Said  I,  "My  dear  friend,  you  need  make  no  excuse. 
You  and  your  husband  have  already  done  more  for  me 
than  I  have  any  right  to1  expect,  and  I  cannot  find  lan 
guage  to  express  my  gratitude." 

On  leaving,  she  dropped  a  twenty-dollar  bill  in  my 


166  ASP  ASIA. 

hand.  My  heart  was  so  full  that  I  could  not  acknowl 
edge  it,  and,  covering  my  face,  I  burst  into  tears.  Bid 
ding  me  good-by,  she  said,  "  I  will  see  you  again,  dear, 
in  a  day  or  two." 

I  reported  the  present  to  Bessie  immediately  after  Mrs. 
Shepherd  left,  for,  as  I  have  before  stated,  we  had  formed 
a  copartnership,  and  I  was  resolved  to  carry  out  the 
agreement  to  the  letter. 

"Well,"  said  Bessie,  "I  told  ye,  mum,  that  the  good 
Lord  would  take  care  of  us  ;  but  I  don't  think  much  of 
that  old  brute  of  a  man  of  yourn." 

"  Oh,"  said  I, "  Bessie,  don't  call  him  a  brute.  He  is  my 
husband,  and  I  am  bound  to  treat  him  kindly,  let  him  do 
as  he  will ;  and  I  feel  sure  he  will  yet  reform." 

"  Reform  !"  said  she.  "  No,  indade  ;  not  so  long  as  he 
can  get  a  shilling  to  buy  a  mug  of  whisky  wid.  There 
ought  to  be  a  law  making  a  damage  to  any  one  selling 
whisky  to  a  drunkard." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "and  there  should  be  a  law  making  it 
an  offense  punishable  by  a  heavy  fine  for  a  man  to  sell 
ardent  spirits  to  any  one  who  fails  to  provide  for  his 
family." 


CHAPTER   XV. 

ONE  day,  while  we  were  all  engaged  upon  some  work 
we  obtained  of  a  merchant  tailor,  a  wagon  drove  to  the 
door,  having  (as  I  observed  from  my  window)  a  man 
lying  on  some  straw.  The  driver  hallooed.  I  went  to 
the  door,  and  said  he,  "  Here,  old  woman,  I've  brought 
home  your  old  man ;  and  I  guess  it's  about  the  last  of 
him,  too." 

Bessie  heard  him,  and,  rushing  past  me,  with  her 
broom,  she  screamed  out,  "  Ye  dirty  old  spalpeen,  bad 
luck  to  ye  ;  may  the  Howly  Virgin  spit  on  ye,  callin'  my 
good  lady  the  old  woman.  Ye  desarve  to  be  pounded, 
and  ye  does." 

"  Never  mind,  Bessie,"  said  I ;  "  this  is  part  of  the  trials 
I  am  called  to  bear  for  some  wise  purpose." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  I,  "  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  help  my 
husband  into  the  house  ?" 

"Help,"  said  he;  "  he  is  as  dead  as  a  door-nail,  and  will 
have  to  be  carried  in." 

We  all  sprang  for  the  wagon,  screaming. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "don't  be  scared;  he's  only  dead  drunk  ; 
the  old  fellow  will  come  to  life  again,  I  reckon.  He  hasn't 
all  the  whisky  he  wants  yet." 

We  all  assisted,  and  carried  Mr.  Goodspeed  into  the 
house,  and  laid  him  upon  the  bed  ;  and  Bessie  went  at 
him  with  herb  tea  until  she  relieved  him  of  the  surplus 
liquor.  However,  he  lay  stupid  all  that  iii^ht,  ami, 
although  we  had  lived  in  the  little  brown  house  in  the 

(167) 


168  ASP  ASIA. 

alley  nearly  a  year,  and  been  forsaken  by  nearly  all  my 
former  fashionable  friends,  yet  I  think  there  was  never  a 
more  painful  conflict  going  on  in  my  soul  than  during 
that  long  and  wearisome  night.  For  apparently  my 
husband  was  dying,  or  at  least  rapidly  approaching  his 
death;  and  a  flash  of  pleasure  at  the  thought  would  sud 
denly  come  over  me.  And  then  I  would  plead  God's 
forgiveness  of  my  great  sin,  and  that  he  would  spare  my 
husband's  life,  and  convert  him.  Thus  I  agonized  all 
that  long  night. 

On  the  morrow,  he  came  out  of  the  torpid  state  in 
which  he  bad  lain  during  the  night,  but  was  too  feeble 
to  sit  up. 

While  the  girls  and  myself  were  sewing,  Bessie  did  the 
housework  and  nursing  Mr.  Goodspeed.  And  I  over 
heard  the  following  conversation  between  them  : 

"Well,  Bessie,  aren't  you  sorry  to  see  me  sick  in  bed?" 

"  Good  luck  to  ye,  no,  indacle,  I  ain't.  I  wish,  by  the 
Howly  Virgin,  you  were  sick  all  the  time.  I'd  rather  take 
care  of  a  dozen  sick  men  than  one  drunken  man;  and  1 
reckon,  old  fellow,  ye'll  git  no  whisky  to-day,  sure." 

"  Oh,  I  must  have  some  whisky,  or  I'll  die." 

"  Well,  then,  ye'll  die;  and  ye  might  as  well  be  count 
ing  yer  beads  and  saying  yer  prayers,  for  sure  an'  ye'll  not 
get  a  dhrop  of  whisky  in  this  house." 

"  Call  Mrs.  Goodspeed.  Tell  her  to  send  one  of  the 
girls  for  some  liquor." 

"No,  indade,  I  shan't.  If  there's  any  chance  for  ye 
to  die,  may  the  Lord  hasten  it.  I'd  be  glad  to  go  for  a 
coffin,  but  never  a  bit  of  whisky.  An'  ain't  you  ashamed 
o'  yourself  fur  all  the  misery  and  suffering  ye've  brought 
on  the  fine  family?  Ye  desarve  the  everlasting  curse  of 
the  howly  angels;  an'  ye'll  get  it  too,  if  ye  don't  mind." 

It  was  several  weeks  before  my  husband  sufficiently 


AST  A  SI  A.  169 

recovered  so  as  to  be  able  to  sit  up.  During  this  time  I 
had  but  little  conversation  with  him.  Several  of  his 
rough,  drinking  companions,  hearing  of  his  illness,  called, 
but  we  would  not  let  one  of  them  into  the  house. 

My  object  in  not  conversing  with  him  was  that  he 
might  have  time  to  reflect,  and  I  kept  him  a  large  part  of 
the  time  like  one  in  solitary  confinement.  I  have  heard 
it  said  that  there  is  no  punishment  so  tormenting,  so 
terrible  to  endure,  as  to  be  shut  up  alone  with  nothing  to 
do  but  think!  think!  think!  and  my  impression  is  that 
Mr.  Goodspeed  experienced  the  pangs  of  a  guilty  con 
science,  for  he  would  entreat  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes  to 
stay  with  him ;  but  not  wishing  to  provoke  him,  and  still 
being  determined  to  leave  him  alone  with  his  conscience 
and  his  God,  I  would  excuse  myself  and  get  away  from 
him.  Days  and  weeks  passed,  and  even  months,  before 
he  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  go  about  the  house. 

In  the  mean  time,  by  the  aid  and  influence  of  Mrs. 
Shepherd,  my  daughter  Rose  had  obtained  a  class  in 
music,  as  she  was  an  excellent  performer  on  the  piano, 
and  understood  the  science  of  music.  William  succeeded 
admirably  in  the  store;  Bell  and  myself  sewed  evenings, 
and  I  taught  a  private  day-school  of  girls;  and  Bessie 
did  the  housework  and  took  care  of  my  husband  during 
the  daytime. 

Soon  after  moving  into  the  little  brown  house  in  tlie 
alley,  I  found  that  on  Sabbath  days  there  wore  many 
children  playing  about,  and  I  resolved  that  I  would 
cuter  the  missionary  field  at  once.  I  didn't  know  but 
the  parents  would  point  to  my  drunken  husband,  and  say. 
"  Physician,  heal  thyself;"  but  I  saw  that  (Jod  had  opened 
a  way  for  me  to  do  good,  and,  for  aught  I  knew,  I  had  been 
brought  there  for  this  very  purpose.  I  at  once  mentioned 
it  to  William  and  the  "-iris,  and  they  approved  of  it,  and 

15 


170  ASPASIA. 

we  resolved  that  we  would  open  a  Sabbath-school  in  our 
house  the  next  Sunday  at  two  o'clock  P.M.,  as  we  all 
attended  church  in  the  morning.  William  said  that  he 
would  go  to  all  the  houses  in  the  alley  Sunday  morn 
ing  and  notify  the  people ;  and  we  all  became  greatly  in 
terested  in  anticipation  of  glorious  results  from  our 
efforts. 

My  children  obtained  singing-books  and  Testaments 
at  their  morning  Sabbath-school  for  use  in  our  school. 

Sunday  morning  came,  and  said  William,  "You 
know,  mother,  the  Apostle  Paul  said  he  caught  men  with 
guile,  and  I  am  going  to  try  it."  So,  putting  on  his 
oldest  and  worst-looking  clothes,  he  went  through  the 
alley,  from  door  to  door,  inviting  the  people  to  our  Sun 
day-school  that  afternoon  ;  and  the  result  was  twenty-one 
children  and  five  adults  the  first  Sabbath,  and  the  school 
continued  to  increase  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath;  and, 
during  niy  husband's  long  sickness,  he  was  compelled  to 
attend  Sabbath-school  every  Sunday.  Before  we  left  the 
alley,  we  obtained,  by  subscription,  sufficient  to  lease  for 
a  term  of  years  a  vacant  lot  next  to  our  house,  and  erect 
a  house  that  would  hold  a  hundred  or  more  people, — and 
we  had  it  full  every  Sunday;  and  I  thank  God  that  he 
answered  and  blessed  our  labors  to  the  conversion  of 
many.  And  on  this  very  spot,  and  from  that  Sabbath- 
school,  has  grown  up  the  Eighth  Ward  Mission  Church, 
now  the  largest  in  the  city.  Thus  I  feel  that  the  bless 
ings  with  which  God  crowned  our  feeble  efforts  there, 
fully  compensated  for  all  the  suffering  and  misery  we 
were  called  to  endure.  And  there  it  was,  also,  that  my 
dear  husband  first  stood  up  before  men  and  proclaimed 
himself  a  Christian.  It  is  a  precious  spot, — hallowed 
ground  to  us. 

After  he  had  so  far  recovered  as  to  be  about  the  house, 


ASPASIA.  171 

I  ventured  to  talk  with  him  of  the  errors  of  his  past  life, 
which  he  deeply  lamented,  and  said  he,  "  My  dear  wife, 
I  am  not  fit  to  live ;  I  have  been  so  ungrateful,  have  sunk 
so  low  in  sin,  and  have  brought  my  loving  family  into 
such  deep  disgrace,  caused  you  the  loss  of  friends  and 
home,  to  dwell  in  a  shanty  in  an  alley.  Oh,  my  God, 
what  a  sinner  I  am !  And  all  this  time,  you,  my  dear, 
dear  wife,  have  been  so  loving  and  kind,  and  my  children 
so  dutiful  and  respectful  to  a  father  who  has  brought 
them  into  such  wretchedness,  that  I  have  by  my  evil  prac 
tices  and  associations  cultivated  only  the  baser  passions 
of  my  nature,  and  yet  God  has  not  cut  me  off,  as  he 
might,  and  as  justice  demanded.  What  shall  I  do  ?  Is 
there  any  hope  for  me  ?  As  I  now  contemplate  the 
awful  experience  from  which  I  have  had  temporary  re 
lief,  I  long  again  for  the  hellish  cup.  Oh,  how  am  I  to 
be  saved  from  repeating  my  past  experiences  !  Is  there 
no  escape?  When  I  am  able  again  to  go  out  among 
men,  and  from  the  restraints  of  my  loving  family,  am  I 
again  to  yield  to  the  tempter,  and  so  go  down  to  hell  ? 
Oh,  God  forbid !" 

We  all  sobbed  aloud,  and  were  so  filled  with  grief  we 
could  not  speak.  After  awhile,  William  broke  the  silence, 
and  said: 

"  My  father,  you  have  indeed  been  a  great  sinner;  but 
our  dear  mother  has  saved  you  from  death  and  the  do 
minion  of  Satan,  by  her  earnest  prayers  in  your  behalf. 
Day  and  night  she  has  earnestly  presented  your  case  to 
Jesus,  and  begged  his  mercy  for  you,  that  justice  might 
not  overtake  you.  And  around  our  family  altar,  morn 
ing  and  evening,  we  have  all  poured  out  the  sincere  de- 
pires  of  our  soul  that  the  Holy  Spirit  would  light  up  the 
fcpnrk  of  truth  which  lay  imbedded  under  the  rubbish  of 
corruption  in  your  soul.  And  thus  that  spark  might  be 


172  AS  PAS  I  A. 

kindled  into  a  flame  of  never-dying  love  for  Jesus.  Then 
we  knew  that  Morgan  Goodspeed  would  stand  out  a  man 
among  men,  and  our  family  again  be  taken  back  to  the 
society  of  the  respectable  and  virtuous." 

I  then  spoke.  Said  I,  "  My  dear  husband,  you  have  in 
deed  caused  me  and  our  children  deep  sorrow :  the  in 
tensity  of  my  suffering  you  can  never  realize  or  appreciate. 
I  do  not  feel  at  all  inclined  to  chide  you ;  you  have  been 
led  away  into  temptations :  I  would  not  make  you  unhappy 
by  adverting  to  our  experiences  during  the  past  three 
years.  And  now,  as  God,  in  his  infinite  mercy,  instead 
of  suddenly  cutting  you  off  in  your  sins,  has  brought  you 
low  in  sickness  that  you  might  have  opportunity  for  re 
flection,  and  prolonged  your  sickness,  that  you  might 
gain  strength,  morally,  to  resist  temptation,  I  pray  you 
to  lay  hold  of  the  promises  of  Jesus.  For  he  says  that 
'none  who  come  unto  him  shall  be  cast  out.'  He  can 
give  you  strength  to  resist  the  tempter,  let  him  come  to 
you  in  whatever  guise  he  may;  and  you  can  obtain  that 
strength  from  no  other  source.  If  you  rely  upon  your 
own  strength, — your  own  good  pledges  or  resolves,  with 
out  trusting  in  Jesus, — you  will  surely  sink  deeper  in 
degradation  and  ruin  than  ever  before.  And  now,  for 
Jesus'  sake  who  died  for  you,  died  in  your  stead,  suf 
fered  for  your  sins,  that  you  might  be  saved  from  ever 
lasting  torments;  for  your  wife's  sake,  who  left  her  father 
and  friends  to  become  yours,  and  did  so  upon  the 
strength  of  your  solemn  pledges  to  remain  a  faithful  and 
devoted  husband  so  long  as  life  should  last;  and  for  the 
sake  of  your  dear  children,  who  must  carry  the  name  of 
Goodspeed  through  life,  and  whose  future  condition  in 
society  will  depend  much  upon  your  resolve  to-night, — I 
say,  in  view  of  all  these  motives,  and  in  the  name  of  God. 


ASP  ASIA.  173 

and  humanity,  I  entreat  you  to  now  resolve  to  lead  a 
Christian's  life  from  this  moment !" 

He  then  asked  me  to  pray  for  him;  we,  for  the  first 
time  in  our  lives,  knelt  together,  and  I  earnestly  im 
plored  God's  mercy  to  rest  upon  my  dear  husband ; 
upon  my  concluding,  he  burst  forth  in  an  earnest  prayer 
and  confession,  and  a  consecration  without  reserve. 
William  followed  him  in  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  and 
praise.  Thus,  by  the  mysterious  operations  of  provi 
dence,  was  God's  altar  erected  in  the  family  of  Morgan 
Goodspeed. 

My  dear  husband  continued  to  improve  in  health  from 
day  to  day ;  as  soon  as  he  was  able,  he  called  on 
some  of  his  old  drinking  companions,  and  succeeded  in 
bringing  them  into  my  Sabbath-school;  and,  before  we 
left  there,  God  gave  us  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
many  of  them  were  converted  from  the  error  of  their 
ways,  and  became  useful  members  of  society ;  one  young 
lawyer,  of  fine  talents  and  education,  but  who  had  led 
a  dissolute  life,  was  so  filled  with  love  for  Jesus,  and 
burning  desire  for  the  salvation  of  men,  that  he  became 
a  self-constituted  city  missionary  and  preacher,  and  was 
most  successful  in  his  labors.  Our  former  friends,  learn 
ing  of  the  conversion  of  my  husband,  and  of  his  activity 
and  zeal  in  his  efforts  for  good,  again  gathered  about  us, 
and  were  solicitous  to  aid  him  in  his  efforts  to  again  es 
tablish  himself  in  business. 

By  invitation  of  Mr.  Hammond,  Mr.  Goodspeed  entered 
his  store  as  salesman  by  commission  instead  of  a  salary, 
well  knowing  that  his  abilities  as  a  salesman  were  such 
that  he  could  make  more  money  than  by  a  salary  ;  he 
found  that  he  could  sell  more  goods  after  he  became  a 
Christum  than  ever  before. 

15* 


1M  A  SPA  SI  A. 

When  he  had  been  with  Mr.  Hammond  about  six 
months,  the  latter  proposed  to  retire  from  active  business, 
and  give  it  into  the  hands  of  rny  husband  and  William, 
by  selling  them  an  undivided  half  of  the  stock  on  credit, 
charging  them  six  per  cent,  on  that  capital,  and  dividing 
the  profits  equally.  This  was  done  at  once,  and  the  old 
sign  of  Goodspeed  &  Hammond,  that  for  over  three  years 
and  a  half  had  lain  in  the  store  loft,  was  pulled  out  of 
the  rubbish,  cleaned  up,  and  raised  to  its  old  place  at 
No.  — ,  Milk  Street,  Boston. 

The  business  of  the  firm  was  prosperous ;  the  times 
were  propitious.  Many  of  my  husband's  old  customers, 
who  were  so  because  of  their  especial  friendship  for  him, 
and  who  had  left  the  house  after  his  failure,  now  learning 
of  his  reform,  and  that  he  had  resumed  business,  came 
back  to  the  house  to  trade,  and  his  business  rapidly  in 
creased. 

My  husband  was  anxious  to  locate  his  family  in  a 
more  respectable  house  and  neighborhood,  but  I  de 
clined  until  he  and  William  should  be  able  to  purchase 
a  home.  Our  expenses  were  light,  for  I  still  continued 
to  teach,  as  did  also  Rose,  and  we  were  slow  to  go  back 
into  society,  preferring  to  be  urged  back,  than  to  crowd 
ourselves  upon  our  friends  who  had  forsaken  us  in  our 
adversity. 

At  the  close  of  the  first  year  the  books  of  the  firm 
showed  large  profits  to  Mr.  Goodspeed  and  William's  ac 
count,  and  one  more  year  of  equal  prosperity  would  en 
tirely  wipe  out  their  indebtedness,  and  place  them  one- 
half  owners  of  the  immense  stock,  which  result  was 
achieved. 

One  morning,  as  Mr.  Goodspeed  entered  the  counting- 
room  at  the  store,  William  called  his  attention  to  an  ad 
vertisement  of  a  beautiful  house  and  splendid  furniture, 


ASF  ASIA.  175 

on  Street,  No.  — ,  for  sale  at  auction,  at  ten  A.M. 

of  that  day. 

Said  my  husband,  "  William,  would  you  like  to  have 
me  purchase  back  my  old  home,  the  house  in  which  my 
precious  children  were  born  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  William  ;  "  and  if  it  is  known  that 
you  want  it,  it  will  go  cheap ;  and  we  can  spare  sufficient 
to  meet  the  cash  payment.  I  wonder  if  it  is  the  same 
house  and  furniture  that  we  left  ?." 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  his  father,  "  and  we  will  see." 

They  accordingly  went  to  the  house,  and  found  it  the 
same,  and,  apparently  just  as  we  left  it,  furniture  and  all, 
for  that  had  been  kept  well  covered. 

William  afterward  informed  me  that  his  father  was  so 
overcome,  upon  entering  the  house,  that  he  sat  down  in 
the  same  easy-chair  he  used  to  occupy  so  much,  and  wept 
like  a  child.  My  husband  attended  the  auction,  and,  so 
soon  as  people  learned  that  Morgan  Goodspeed  desired 
to  purchase  his  old  home,  they  ceased  bidding  entirely, 
and  the  house  and  furniture  were  sold,  and  immediate 
possession  given ;  but  the  deed  and  bill  of  sale  were  both 
made  to  Mrs.  Aspasia  Goodspeed. 

On  the  morrow,  after  the  purchase  of  the  old  mansion, 
my  husband  remarked  at  the  breakfast-table,  that  he  had 

the  day  before  purchased  a  house  on Street,  in  the 

neighborhood  of  where  we  used  to  live,  and  directed  us 
to  be  ready  to  move  into  it  by  ten  A.M.,  which  we  could 
do,  as  we  had  no  furniture  to  move,  and  he  said  he  pur 
chased  furniture  with  the  house. 

At  ten  we  were  ready,  and  husband  and  William  came 
for  us. 

As  we  were  passing  along  street  after  street,  I  re 
marked  it  was  the  first  carriage-ride  I  had  enjoyed  for 
over  four  years. 


H6  ASP  AS  I  A. 

After  reaching  our  old  neighborhood,  I  watched  the 
horses  eagerly  to  see  where  they  were  to  stop.  At  last 
we  were  driven  to  the  gate  of  our  old  mansion,  and 
hastened  into  the  house.  We  strolled  through  it  more  as 
an  explorer  would  through  the  chambers  of  the  buried 
cities  of  the  Old  World,  than  as  people  who  had  come 
to  dwell  there. 

Wonder  and  astonishment  filled  our  minds.  We  were 
amazed  and  confounded.  The  past  seemed  to  me  like  a 
dream. 

I  sank  down  upon  a  sofa  in  the  parlor.  My  husband 
sat  beside  me  just  as  he  used  to  formerly.  Said  I,  "  Morgan 
Goodspeed,  is  this  a  dream  ?" 

"No,"  said  he;  "but  it  is  another  manifestation  of 
God's  love  ;"  and,  drawing  some  papers  from  his  pocket, 
and  handing  them  to  me,  said,  "  My  dear  wife,  I  have 
purchased  this  house  and  all  this  furniture  in  your  name, 
and  now  present  you  the  title-papers.  Whatever  will  again 
occur,  you  will  have  a  home." 

Can  any  of  my  readers  appreciate  my  feelings  at  this 
announcement?  If  so,  well,  it  relieves  me  ;  for  I  could 
not  find  language  to  express  them. 

Bessie  stood  by  and  heard  it  all;  and,  after  waiting 
for  me  to  speak,  and  finding  I  did  not,  she  wiped  the 
tears  from  her  eyes,  and  said  she,  "  Mr.  Goodspeed,  the 
last  time  I  saw  ye  in  this  house  I  wouldn't  a  given  a 
haight  for  ye;  and  it's  only  for  the  prayers  and  kindness 
of  my  good  lady  that  ye  are  alive  at  all  at  all.  And  ye 
have  dun  a  blessed  thing  to  give  the  good  lady  the 
house  and  furniture ;  but  couldn't  ye  do  a  little  some 
thing  fur  me,  jist  to  remember  me  by, — a  calico  dress,  or 
something,  jist  because  we  have  all  got  back  into  this 
house  again, — and  I  went  with  the  ladies,  and  I  staid 
wid  'em,  and  sure  and  I'm  glad  I  did?" 


ASPASIA.  m 

Said  my  husband,  "  Bessie,  you  have  been  a  good  girl ; 
now  you  ought  to  get  married  and  have  a  home." 

"An'  sure  an'  haven't  I  a  home  here,  sir  ?"  said  she. 

"  Yes,"  replied  my  husband,  "  but  you  should  have  one 
of  your  own  now.  If  you  will  marry  Johnny  Scates 
(and  you  know  he  wants  you  to),  I  will  purchase  that 
house  we  have  just  moved  out  of,  and  the  furniture  also, 
and  give  them  to  you." 

"Will  ye?"  said  she;  and  her  eyes  sparkled  like  dia 
monds.  "  Well,  by  the  Howly  Virgin,  I'll  do  it  this  very 
night,  an'  sure  an'  I  will." 

"Well  done,"  said  the  girls;  "go  and  hunt  up  your 
fellow  and  bring  him  around  here,  and  you  shall  be  mar 
ried  in  this  parlor."  At  that  she  flew  out  of  the  house,  as 
a  scared  bird  leaves  its  nest. 

Presently,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shepherd,  learning  that  we 
had  purchased  and  repossessed  our  old  home,  called  to 
congratulate  us  upon  our  prosperity.  And  Mr.  Good- 
speed  related  the  conversation  he  had  with  Bessie,  and 
his  proposition ;  and  Mr.  Shepherd  said  he  would  make 
out  a  deed  for  her,  but  would  not  take  anything  from  us 
for  it,  and  that  himself,  wife,  and  daughters  would  be 
down  in  the  evening  to  attend  the  wedding. 

Evening  came,  and  with  it  Father  Hagan,  the  priest, 
Johnny  Scates,  and  some  half-dozen  of  his  friends.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Shepherd  and  daughters,  with  all  of  our  family, 
were  in  our  elegant  parlors,  that  were  most  brilliantly 
lighted.  In  the  presence  of  these  witnesses,  Johnny 
and  Bessie  stood  up  together  and  were  made  one.  And 
when  the  old  priest  pronounced  them  married,  she  gig 
gled  right  out,  and  turning  to  Johnny,  said  she,  "  I'vo 
got  a  house,  I  have." 

"  Hist,  girl,"  said  Johnny  :  "  the  praste  ain't  through." 

As  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  performed,  Mr.  Good- 


1?8  A  SPA  SI  A. 

speed  complimented  Bessie  in  high  terms,  and  enjoined 
upon  Johnny  to  be  a  faithful  husband  to  her.  He  then 
presented  her  the  deed  to  the  house,  and  a  bill  of  the 
furniture,  and  full  receipt.  And  the  company  withdrew. 
Thus  ended  our  celebration  of  the  reoccupancy  of  our 
old  home. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

"  Thus  drifting  afar  to  the  dim,  vaulted  caves 

Where  life  and  its  ventures  are  laid, 
The  dreamers  who  gaze,  while  we  battle  the  waves, 

May  see  us  in  sunshine  or  shade. 
Yet  true  to  our  course,  though  our  shadow  be  dark, 

We'll  trim  our  broad  sail  as  before, 
And  stand  by  the  rudder  that  governs  the  bark, 

Nor  ask  how  we  look  from  the  shore." 

MY  readers,  I  am  sure,  will  admit  that  my  life,  up  to 
this  period,  has  been  an  eventful  one. 

At  times  I  have  basked  in  the  sunshine  of  life,  with 
hosts  of  friends  about  me,  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  the  vir 
tuous  pleasures,  seemingly,  which  wealth  could  afford,  and 
with  all  the  opportunities  for  self-culture  through  position 
and  the  influence  of  the  society  of  the  refined  and  good. 

At  other  times  my  frail  bark  has  been  tossed  about  on 
the  waves  of  adversity  which  seemed  about  to  engulf  me. 
Loss  of  all  earthly  possessions,  forsaken  of  friends,  com 
pelled  to  live  in  the  society  of  the  poor,  degraded,  and 
outcast  of  the  world,  and  yet,  although  drifting  about  upon 
the  billows  of  life,  my  humble  bark  kept  right  on  her 
way,  true  to  the  rudder.  And  when  the  storms  were  the 
severest,  I  anchored  the  firmer  to  the  rock  Christ  Jesus, 
and  was  upheld  until  the  storm  had  passed. 

God,  in  his  merciful  providence,  had  vindicated  my 
faith,  and  that,  too,  in  a  most  wonderful  manner. 

My  husband  was  now  a  devoted   Christian,  and  gave 

(179) 


180  A  SPA  SI  A. 

evidence  of  his  sincerity  by  works  of  love.  He  became 
an  active  member  in  the  church,  and  continued,  during 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  to  superintend  the  mission  Sab 
bath-school,  in  the  alley,  which  I  established,  and  where 
he  first  performed  public  Christian  duties,  and  God 
crowned  his  efforts  with  success. 

Years  passed  on,  and  my  husband  and  William  con 
tinued  prosperously  in  business  ;  at  length  they  purchased 
the  interest  of  Mr.  Hammond,  and  established  the  firm  of 
Goodspeed  &  Son. 

About  this  time  my  daughter  Rose  married  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Scott,  who  was  ordained  a  missionary  to  the  Indies, 
whither  they  went  at  once ;  and  I  am  pleased  to  know 
that  very  many  of  the  benighted  heathens  have,  through 
their  instrumentality,  been  brought  from  Nature's  dark 
ness  into  the  glorious  light  and  liberty  of  the  Gospel  of 
Christ. 

The  day  of  Rose's  marriage  was  also  the  occasion  of 
William's  wedding ;  thus,  as  I  gave  one,  Providence  gave 
me  another,  as  if  it  were  decreed  that  I  should  not  again 
be  required  to  lessen  the  number  of  my  sympathizing 
friends. 

My  daughter  Bell  graduated  at  the  Seminary, 

and  although  Mr.  Goodspeed  possessed  ample  means  for 
us  to  live  in  affluence,  Bell  said  she  chose  not  to  live  a 
passive  or  useless  life,  consequently  accepted  a  situation 
as  first  assistant  teacher  in  the  very  same  seminary  from 
which  I  graduated  when  a  girl. 

The  seasons,  in  quick  and  rapid  succession,  succeeded 
each  other,  and  I  felt  that  time  was  fast  passing  away. 

It  was  evening ;  my  husband  and  myself  were  seated 
in  the  library  alone  ;  a  fearful  storm  was  raging  without; 
the  slats  in  the  shutters  were  flapping,  to  keep  time  to 
the  ^Eolian  music  of  the  winds,  and  all  was  dismal,  dreary, 


ASPAS1A.  181 

and  dark ;  but  the  angel  of  love  presided  at  our  quiet 
fireside. 

Removing  his  spectacles,  and  laying  aside  his  evening 
paper,  he  addressed  me  as  follows  : 

"  Well,  wife,  I  really  feel  as  though  I  was  about  through 
with  life,  and  very  soon  will  have  to  bid  adieu  to  earth, 
and  enter  upon  the  realities  of  an  unseen  world." 

"  Why  do  you  feel  so  ?"  I  inquired.  "  You  are  not  ill, 
are  you  ?" 

"No,  I  am  not;  but  when  I  realize  how  rapidly  time 
is  passing  away,  the  seasons  coming  and  going  with  a 
velocity  increasing  with  my  years,  it  is  an  evidence  to  me 
that  my  work  is  about  done, — and,  oh,  such  a  work !  As  I 
look  back  upon  my  life,  a  large  part  of  which  has  been 
misspent,  it  causes  me  deep  grief,  and  since,  through 
God's  infinite  mercy,  I  was  taken  from  the  depths  of  deg 
radation,  and  my  soul  filled  with  heavenly  desires,  and 
God's  special  providence  manifested  toward  me,  and  my 
precious  family  subsequently,  I  feel  like  exclaiming, 
throughout  all  eternity,  '  Grace  !  grace  !  all  grace  !' 

"  But  in  his  economy  God  works  through  human  in 
strumentalities,  and  I  firmly  believe  that  he  raised  you  up 
on  purpose  for  my  conversion;  for  few,  if  any,  would  have 
continued  faithful  before  the  mercy-seat  as  you  have  ;  and, 
in  eternity,  the  next  theme  to  that  of  a  Saviour's  dying 
love  for  which  I  shall  tune  my  harp  of  praise  and  songs 
of  everlasting  joy,  will  be  that  God  in  his  infinite  mercy 
chose  you,  my  dear  wife,  a  messenger  of  heavenly  love, 
and  that  by  your  faith,  love,  prayers,  and  good  works, 
you  were  instrumental  in  snatching  me  from  the  liorriMo 
pit,  and  planting  my  feet  upon  the  rock  Christ  Jesus." 

For  moments  the  deep  emotions  of  my  soul  choked  my 
utterance;  at  length,  gaining  relief  through  my  crying,  I 
replied : 

16 


182  ASPASIA. 

"  The  ways  of  God  are  mysterious.  I  am  entitled  to 
no  credit  for  having  performed  my  duty  toward  you.  I 
had,  all  through  our  adversity  and  deep  distress,  abiding 
faith  in  Christ's  promises,  and  was  determined  to  test 
their  validity  by  the  constancy  of  my  purpose ;  and,  as 
by  the  exercise  of  our  physical  system  the  muscles  all 
gain  vigor  and  strength,  so  it  is  with  the  attributes  of 
the  mind ;  hence  the  fruits  of  my  faith  were  manifested  in 
kindly  deeds  toward  you,  calculated  to  soften  the  asperi 
ties  of  your  mind,  and  render  you  more  likely  to  yield 
your  stubborn  will  to  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  thus,  also,  was  my  faith  in  God  manifested  by  my 
efforts  for  the  good  of  others.  I  know  full  well  that  He 
who  had  promised  to  '  feed  the  young  ravens  when  they 
cry,'  would  not  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  a  confiding  soul." 

After  our  evening  worship  we  retired  for  the  night. 

But  a  few  weeks  passed  and  my  husband  was  taken 
violently  sick  with  fever.  He  had  previously  had  such 
attacks,  and  I  hoped  to  throw  it  off.  But,  alas,  it  was 
not  so  to  be  !  He  continued  to  grow  worse  through  the 
night,  and  for  days  after  he  was  quite  low. 

I  felt  impressed  that  this  was  to  be  his  last  sickness, 
and  the  thought  of  his  being  taken,  and  I  left,  caused  me 
deep  distress. 

I  went  to  my  closet  and  shut  the  door ;  and  there  alone 
with  my  Saviour,  where  in  former  years  I  plead  earnestly 
for  my  erring  husband,  I  now  prayed  that  this  cup  of 
affliction,  if  consistent  with  his  will,  might  pass  from  me ; 
otherwise,  that  I  might  be  prepared  to  endure  it. 

At  last  the  physician  informed  me  that  Mr.  Goodspeed 
could  not  recover,  but  that  I  must  not  alarm  him  by  in 
forming  him  of  it. 

"My  dear  sir,"  I  replied,  "he  will  not  be  alarmed  at 
all.  lie  is  ready  to  die  at  any  time  ;  but  how  can  I  en 
dure  it?" 


AS  PAST  A.  183 

As  I  came  to  the  bedside,  he  observed  I  had  been 
weeping. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "my  dear  wife,  weep  not  for  me.  I  am 
only  going  home  a  little  while — just  a  little  while — be 
fore  you,  that's  all !" 

Our  pastor  called  frequently  during  his  illness  ;  and  at 
one  of  his  last  visits  he  inquired  of  Mr.  Goodspeed,  "  On 
what  grounds  do  you  hope  for  salvation  ?" 

My  husband  replied,  "  Not  by  any  works  of  righteous 
ness  that  I  have  done,  but  by  the  sovereign  mercy  and 
grace  of  God,  through  Jesus  Christ  my  Saviour." 

"  But,"  said  the  pastor,  "  are  you  not  to  be  credited  in 
God's  book  of  records  with  the  good  you  have  done  ?" 

My  husband  replied,  "  Not  at  all ;  I  am  to  be  credited 
nothing  in  my  account  with  God;  it  is  all  debit  on  my 
side  of  the  account.  I  have  forfeited  all  right  to  a  credit 
with  him,  and  he  had  determined  to  thrust  me  into  the 
prison  of  endless  despair,  as  he  knew  full  well  I  never 
could  repay  the  debt;  for  it  was  his  inexorable  law  that 
the  debt  must  be  paid,  or  the  debtor  be  everlastingly 
punished.  Seeing  this,  the  great  heart  of  Christ  was 
moved  with  pity  in  my  behalf,  and  he  paid  the  debt  for 
me;  hence  the  account  has  been  transferred  to  Jesus, 
and  rny  indebtedness  is  to  him." 

"  Well,  then,  how  do  you  expect  to  square  your  ac 
count  with  Jesus  ?" 

"  I  do  not  expect  to  at  all.  I  never  can  pay  it,  nor  any 
part  of  it.  I  am  a  bankrupt  sinner;  but  I  have  not  the 
least  fears  in  going  into  the  august  presence  of  Jesus; 
for  I  know  he  will  freely  forgive  the  debt  I  owe,  and 
welcome  me  into  his  presence  as  though  I  had  never 
sinned.  For  he  says,  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  who  labor 
and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.'  I  \v;is 
heavy-laden  with  the  burdens  of  sin,  and  by  the  influences 


184  ASPASIA. 

of  the  Holy  Spirit  yielded  myself  to  Jesus,  and  he  rolled 
the  burden  off  from  my  soul  at  once,  and  I  became  dead 
to  sin.  '  Now,  if  we  be  dead  with  Christ,  we  believe  that 
we  shall  also  live  with  him.'  '  Therefore,  being  justified 
by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.'  What  more  do  I  need  ?  Jesus  says,  '  My  blood 
cleanseth  from  all  sins,'  and  his  '  Spirit  witnesses  with 
my  spirit,  that  I  have  been  born  again.'  I  feel  my  utter 
unworthiness  and  helpless  condition,  and  shall  go  into 
the  presence  of  my  Saviour  naked  and  poor;  but  I  be 
lieve  to  become  rich  in  that  heavenly  inheritance  pre 
pared  for  me." 

The  pastor  replied,  "Brother  Goodspeed,  you  need 
none  of  my  counsel  or  advice ;  you  are  taught  by  one 
higher  than  I.  The  Holy  Spirit  has  indeed  manifested 
his  presence  to  you,  and  clearly  revealed  himself  and 
your  duty.  And  oh  that  I  may  be  permitted  to  see  my 
last  days  with  my  faith  as  clear,  and  firmly  centering  on 
Christ  as  is  yours !  Have  you  any  message  for  the 
church  ?" 

"  Yes,"  my  husband  replied  ;  "  tell  the  brethren  to  ex 
ercise  stronger  faith  in  Jesus,  and  to  let  their  faith  be 
more  ardent,  to  put  away  evil-speaking  from  among  them, 
and  wicked  surmisings  ;  remembering  that  if  they  speak 
ill  of  a  brother  and  wound  his  conscience,  it  is  a  wound 
inflicted  upon  the  great  heart  of  Christ  himself,  and  is  a 
fearful  sin  to  be  answered  for.  Tell  them  they  must  not 
judge  one  another,  for  with  what  judgment  they  judge, 
they  too  will  be  judged.  They  must  remember  that  if 
poor,  sinning,  weak  mortals  cannot  forgive  and  overlook 
each  other's  imperfections,  how  can  we  expect  pardon 
from  the  great  God.  I  wish  you  would,  endeavor  to  im 
press  more  forcibly  the  truth,  that  a  backbiter  and  an 
evil-speaker  is  only  revealing  his  own  character;  and, 


ASP  AS  I  A.  185 

knowing  this,  every  Christian,  when  evil  thoughts  arise 
in  his  mind,  should  at  once  rebuke  the  evil  spirit  which 
prompts  them,  and  at  the  same  time  cultivate  and  cherish 
the  opposite  feeling.  By  this  process  of  educating  him 
self,  he  will  grow  in  grace,  and  be  strengthened  to  resist 
evil  thoughts  and  desires,  and  overcome  the  evil  propen 
sities  of  his  nature,  and  thus  grow  up  into  the  full  stature 
of  a  perfect  man  in  Christ  Jesus." 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  of  my  husband's  death,  I 
observed  a  strange  expression  of  countenance  upon  him, 
with  his  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  the  ceiling,  and  a  ter 
rible  scowl  upon  his  face.  After  awhile  it  would  pass 
off,  and  his  face  would  wear  a  smile.  Then  again  despair 
seemed  to  seize  hold  of  him.  I  felt  sure  a  terrible  con 
flict  was  going  on  in  his  soul.  It  seemed  like  a  violent 
storm-cloud  passing  over  the  earth,  when  the  forest  is 
beaten  down  in  its  path,  and,  after  it  has  passed,  the 
sun  shines  out  in  all  its  loveliness  and  splendor. 

After  enduring  the  conflict  a  long  time,  he  burst  out 
with  the  following, — 

"  I  stand  on  Zion's  mount, 

And  view  my  starry  crown ; 
No  power  on  earth  my  hope  can  shake, 
Nor  hell  can  thrust  me  down." 

Before  the  sun  had  gone  down  in  the  western  horizon, 
my  husband  had  entered  upon  the  realities  of  an  unseen 
world,  and  I  was  left  alone. 

Thus  was  I  brought  to  widowhood ;  which,  for  a 
Christian,  is  the  nearest  relation  to  God  to  which  n 
human  being  can  be  brought.  For  he  says,  "  I  will  be 
the  widow's  God." 

\Vc«-ks  passed  on:  I  felt  lonely  and  sad  ;  yet  happy  in 
the  thought  that  my  dear  husband  had  gone  to  dwell 

16* 


186  A  SPA  SI  A. 

where  trouble  can  never  come,  but  where  he  will  bask  in 
the  sunlight  of  Christ's  love  forever,  and  that  I  should 
ere  long  be  permitted  to  join  him  and  strike  the  notes  of 
praise  on  our  golden  harps  together. 

I  was  left  with  a  large  property,  and  was  thus  enabled 
to  bestow  my  charities  with  a  liberal  hand.  I  employed 
at  my  own  cost  never  less  than  five,  and  as  many  as  ten, 
colporteurs,  constantly  distributing  books  and  tracts,  and 
supplying  the  poor  with  food,  and  providing  homes  for 
the  outcast. 

My  daughter  Bell  had  now  married  and  moved  West. 
William  continued  the  business  at  the  old  house.  By  this 
time  his  eldest  son  had  entered  the  store,  and  William 
continued  the  business  under  the  old  sign  of  Goodspeed 
&  Son. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

"  EVERY  family  is  a  history  within  itself,  and  even  a 
poem,  to  those  who  know  how  to  read  its  pages." 

Philosophers  have  declared  that  intellectual  recreation 
is  needful  to  the  well-being  and  mental  health  of  man. 

Pindar  said,  "  Rest  and  enjoyment  are  universal  phy 
sicians." 

Aristotle  says,  "  It  is  impossible  for  men  to  live  in 
continual  labor :  repose  and  games  must  succeed  to  cares 
and  watching." 

Solomon  inquires,  "  Who  knoweth  what  is  good  for  a 
man  in  this  life, — all  the  days  of  his  vain  life  which  he 
spendeth  as  a  shadow  ?" 

Socrates  said,  "  The  highest  degree  of  happiness  was 
attainable  only  by  doing  good  to  our  fellow-men,  by  lead 
ing  our  youth  in  paths  of  virtue,  and  thus  we  should  pro 
pitiate  the  gods  and  secure  their  approbation,  and  insure 
ourselves  immortal  pleasures  in  the  spirit-world." 

The  Assembly's  Catechism  says,  "  The  chief  end  of 
man  is  to  glorify  God  and  enjoy  him  forever." 

Now,  in  my  view,  neither  of  the  foregoing  propositions 
are  wholly  correct,  though  they  all  contain  truth,  which, 
like  all  truth,  is  valuable. 

In  the  first  place,  no  antidote  for  a  burdened  heart  or  a 
diseased  mind  can  be  of  any  real  value,  unless  in  its 
effect  it  brings  permanent  relief;  and  as  we  are  told  by 
the  thoroughly  scientific  physician  that  certain  medicines 

(187) 


188  AS  PAST  A. 

may  be  given  to  counteract  the  immediate  effects  of  the 
disease,  but  it  will  soon  return  again,  and  each  time 
with  increasing  power ;  while  other  medicines  may  be 
administered,  the  effects  of  which  will  be  permanent,  be 
cause  they  are  (as  termed)  constitutional :  the  entire  sys 
tem  is  thus  renovated  and  health  permanently  restored. 

Thus  the  mind  of  an  individual  may  be  overburdened 
with  the  cares  of  life,  or  may  be  oppressed  with  respon 
sibilities,  or  may  become  clouded  and  gloomy  under  the 
trials  of  affliction  or  adversity,  and  temporary  relief  (and 
only  temporary)  may  be  found  in  "intellectual  recrea 
tion,"  or,  as  Pindar  says,  "enjoyments,"  or,  as  Aristotle 
says,  in  "games." 

Yet,  after  all,  from  the  fact  that  the  same  remedies 
have  to  be  so  often  repeated,  they  ultimately  lose  their 
qualities  of  producing  even  temporary  relief. 

We  therefore  need  a  remedy  that  shall  prove  a  specific 
and  bring  permanent  relief. 

Socrates  says,  "  Do  good  to  our  fellow-men,  by  lead 
ing  our  youtn  in  paths  of  virtue,  and  thus  propitiate  the 
gods." 

The  Presbyterian  says,  "  Glorify  God  and  enjoy  him 
forever." 

Let  us  harness  these  two  propositions  together,  and 
we  have  a  perfect  antidote,  for  Jesus  has  told  us  plainly 
that  inasmuch  as  we  have  administered  blessings  to 
others  we  have  done  it  to  him,  and  for  one  to  sell  all 
that  he  had,  and  give  to  the  poor,  he  would  have  treasure 
in  heaven. 

It  is  written,  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  re 
ceive." 

This  is  an  invariable  law  of  our  being.  No  man  loves 
to  beg,  none  loves  to  be  placed  in  circumstances  where 
he  must  be  provided  for  by  charity ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 


AS  PAS  I  A.  189 

there  is  a  real  pleasure  in  being  able  to  bestow  bounties 
upon  others.  There  is  no  exception  to  this  rule ;  it  is 
universal ;  and  even  the  miser  unconsciously  yields  to 
such  emotions  at  times.  This  truth  being  established, 
the  proposition  of  Socrates  is  correct,  and  is  in  harmony 
with  the  injunction  of  our  Lord,  "to  love  our  neighbors 
as  ourselves."  And  by  deeds  of  charity  and  love  toward 
our  fellow-men,  we  glorify  God,  because  we  are  fulfilling 
his  laws  and  elevating  them  above  the  world ;  and  they 
are  becoming  better  fitted  for  servants  of  Jesus,  for  spread 
ing  abroad  the  eternal  truths  of  righteousness  and  true 
holiness. 

I  do  not  like  the  last  clause  in  the  Assembly's  propo 
sition  which  I  have  quoted :  it  sounds  too  selfish ;  but, 
when  coupled  with  those  other  truths  as  above,  it  works 
in  complete  harmony ;  for  it  is  God's  glory  that  man 
should  be  redeemed  and  saved,  and  enjoy  everlasting 
pleasures  beyond  the  grave. 

There  is  still  another  aspect  in  which  I  will  view  this 
subject,  aside  from  the  express  command  of  God,  "  To  do 
unto  others  as  we  would  have  them  do  unto  us."  I  pro 
pose  to  show  that  these  are  obligations  which  grow  out 
of  our  very  natures.  And  what  was  the  primary  cause 
of  the  issuing  of  that  divine  command  ? 

In  the  record  of  the  Creation,  we  find  God  "  made  man 
of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils 
the  breath  of  life,  and  he  became  a  living  soul." 

Further  on  in  the  record,  we  find  that  from  the  man 
God  took  a  woman. 

We  are  told  by  our  blessed  Lord,  "  That  in  heaven 
they  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage,  but  are  as 
the  angels  of  God,"  clearly  implying  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  sex  in  souls  or  spirits;  and  hence  it  is  that  all 
through  Scripture  the  commands  of  God  are  given  to 


190  A  SPA  SI  A. 

men,  never  to  women,  and  woes  and  judgments  are  pro 
nounced  against  men  always,  against  women  never. 
Now,  this  is  not  against  the  male  in  contradistinction 
from  the  female ;  but  because  God  has  created  but  one 
man  and  one  soul,  and  all  other  souls  are  the  product  of 
that  soul ;  have  grown  out  of  it,  sprang  from  it,  born  of 
it,  begotten  by  it,  as  have  all  bodies  from  that  first  phy 
sical  system. 

Hence  it  was  that  Jesus  must  be  begotten  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  or  the  inclinations  of  his  soul  would  have 
been  evil. 

And  hence  it  is  that  we  all  partake  of  our  first  parents' 
nature. 

The  woman  was  of  the  man  ;  nowhere  does  it  say  that 
God  breathed  into  her,  and  she  became  a  living  soul.  And 
why  not?  Because,  as  I  have  said,  but  one  soul  was 
created,  and  the  woman's  soul  was  born  of  the  man's 
soul.  We  are  told  that  the  soul  which  God  created  was 
in  his  likeness,  and  as  the  man's  physical  system  was 
duguerreotyped  in  the  woman,  so  also  did  she  partake 
of  the  attributes  of  his  soul.  Therefore  we  have  but  one 
first  parent ;  hence  it  was  the  curse  fell  upon  the  man. 

11  And  the  Lord  God  said,  Behold,  the  man  is  become 
as  one  of  us,  to  know  good  and  evil.  Now,  lest  he  put 
forth  his  hand  and  take  also  of  the  tree  of  life  and  eat  and 
live  forever,"  etc.  All  this  is  spoken  of  the  man,  which 
would  have  been  an  incongruity  had  there  been  two  in 
dependent  created  souls. 

Now,  then,  reasoning  from  this  stand-point,  our  souls 
are  all  begotten,  as  are  our  bodies.  It  is  an  immutable 
law  of  nature  that  like  begets  like,  and  every  animal 
generates  its  own  species :  so  a  father  begets  a  son  in  his 
own  likeness,  mentally,  morally,  and  physically.  He  may 
not  be  a  perfect  duplicate  of  his  father,  neither  was  Adam 


A  SPA  SI  A.  191 

of  God,  yet  made  in  God's  likeness :  so  the  leading  char 
acteristics  of  the  father's  mind  are  portrayed  in  the  life  of 
the  son.  And  we  expect  the  son  to  be  like  the  father  :  if 
the  father  has  a  burning  thirst  for  strong  drink,  we  expect 
the  son  will  be  a  drunkard ;  if  the  father  is  a  Sabbath- 
breaker,  we  expect  the  son  will  lead  a  life  of  vice  and 
crime ;  on  the  contrary,  if  the  father  cultivates  all  the 
nobler  and  holier  attributes  of  the  soul,  we  look  for  a 
still  greater  development  of  those  heavenly  graces  JL  the 
child. 

Therefore  it  is  that  our  neighbor  is  our  brother,  as 
souls,  living,  immortal,  intelligent  souls,  all  having 
sprang  from  one,  we  necessarily  partake,  in  a  large  de 
gree,  of  the  same  properties  of  mind. 

It  should  therefore  be  our  highest  aim,  so  far  as  this 
life  is  concerned,  to  do  all  we  possibly  can  to  elevate  our 
fellow-men,  to  cultivate  all  their  virtuous  desires,  to  check 
all  baser  passions,  and  thus  fit  them  and  ourselves  for 
usefulness  in  this  life,  and  a  glorious  immortality  in  the 
future. 

I  would  have  my  readers  learn  from  my  experience 
that  an  undying  faith  in  God  will  carry  them  safely 
through  all  troubles,  trials,  and  afflictive  dispensations  of 
providence  ;  and,  although  the  clouds  of  adversity  may 
gather  around  you  dark  and  thick,  at  times,  yet  if  your 
eye  of  faith  is  intently  fixed  on  Jesus,  you  will  ere  long 
see  the  bright  beams  of  heavenly  light  shining  through 
the  darkness. 

As  I  review  my  past  life,  I  am  a  wonder  to  myself,  a 
perfect  enigma,  and  one  that  human  reason  cannot  solve: 
philosophy  affords  no  satisfactory  solution ;  but  Jesus 
Dive's  it  nil  by  saying,  "As  my  Father  luith  sent  me 
into  the  world,  .-<>  have  I  smt  you  into  the  world." 

If  it  shall    prove   that   I   have   been    instrumental  in 


192  A  SPA  SI  A. 

strengthening  the  weak  faith  of  one,  in  leading  an  erring 
one  back  to  the  paths  of  virtue  ; 

Of  bringing  comfort  or  consolation  to  the  wounded 
heart  of  an  afflicted  one  ; 

Of  restoring  lost  hopes  to  one  struggling  in  the  deep 
waters,  and  against  the  billows  of  adversity; 

Of  prompting  the  youth  to  noble  deeds  of  love  and 
good  works, — 

Then  I  shall  not  have  labored  in  vain. 


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